


imagine a world like that

by honeymoonlight



Series: imagine a world like that [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts First Year, Canon Rewrite, Hogwarts First Year, Hufflepuff Neville Longbottom, Hufflepuff!Neville, Lily and Narcissa are wine moms and no one can convince me otherwise, M/M, No Voldemort, Peter Isn’t a Little Shit, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Ravenclaw!Hermione, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin!Harry, Snape is Still an Asshole, Some angst, alice & frank weren’t tortured to insanity, being a blood purist isn’t fashion so it’s not a thing, but it's hp so there's always angst lets be real, hedwig deserved the world so i gave it to her, i like theo nott so he’s gonna be cool ok, inspired by a convo between me and a friend, mostly fun, slowest of slow burns, this author enjoys blaise zabini, this is gonna ignore most of canon ok i’m here for a good time, unless i really dislike someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeymoonlight/pseuds/honeymoonlight
Summary: A reimagining of Harry Potter in which Voldemort was killed before he could get to the Potters, Peter Pettigrew wasn’t a (figurative) rat, Harry Potter is a Slytherin, but still manages to create as much drama as a Gryffindor.





	1. the family who lived

**Author's Note:**

> (title from ariana grande’s “imagine” cause i was listening to it while writing this and thought, “why not”)
> 
> all credit to JKR because i stole her characters and also some of her dialogue.
> 
> also-- now there's a playlist! (if you're a nerd like me, know that the titles to upcoming books in this series are hidden in the playlist--10 points to your hogwarts house if anyone can correctly identify any of the lyrics i used for titles. 5 points if you just guess the song. someone please play my game.)
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fG13Mjr3m9mQKwUIgYz40  
> https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/imagine/pl.u-yZyVXbAIZgKp04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta’d, so let me know if there’s any typos! also i haven’t written in years so this may be clunky, i still may go back and edit it

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Private Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were not the sort to associate with anyone who stuck out, or could be considered anything odd, or anything outside of the proper norm of perfectly normal people.

The same could not be said for Mrs. Dursley’s family.

On the eve of October 31st, 1981, Mr. Potter and a group of fellow Order members, backed by aurors and ministry officials alike, stormed a cottage in Godric’s Hollow, not far from where Mrs. Potter and their son had been not half a day ago. Within the rundown and seemingly deserted abode, the party discovered the Dark Lord himself, with his Death Eater followers, beginning preparations to kill the Potter’s young son. Spurned forth with this plan due to the whispered prophecy, the Death Eaters and their Lord were caught off guard to see this group of aggressors in their hideout, on this night, during their meeting.

Spells flew almost immediately, and with intense focus and fight, the Dark Lord fell.

The Potter’s baby was saved, Mr. and Mrs. Potter took back their lives, and the entire Magical world let out a sigh of relief; He-who-must-not-be-named, had perished.

* * *

“Sirius Black, you _must_ be joking! You did _not_ get my son a full sized broom!”

The screech was heard by the man from twenty feet above the ground, and it almost made him flinch so much, the small boy he was supporting was in danger of falling. Which might’ve made the situation worse.

“Lily! My Lily! Lily of the valley of my heart! You weren’t meant to be home yet—” Sirius started, but was quickly cut off by a furious red head on the grass below.

“Both of you. Down here. Now, Sirius.”

Harry looked properly chastised from his place next to Sirius in the negative space they were occupying, which Sirius found impressive on Lily’s part, since she hadn’t even said Harry’s name, and yet he was feeling the sheer power of his mother’s disappointment.

“All right then, lad, just tilt forward,” Sirius instructed, and within a few moments, the two had cleared the distance between their starting point and where Lily was still practically spouting steam from her ears, like one of those muggle shows that Harry liked so much. Their touch down was light, which gave some credit to Harry’s natural talent—Sirius had been telling James for years, his son was his spitting image, of _course_ he would be an ace flyer—and gave Sirius some confidence, since he definitely still had it.

“In my defense,” Sirius said as soon as they were back on the grass, “nothing bad happened. Your son is all in one piece! It went much better than the first time we took Peter into the air, and Pete, what a mate, he was already fifteen at the time, so you could say that it’s almost impressive that this all went as well as it did, and…”

Lily’s glare cut him off quite effectively, and he prematurely winced, since he knew what was coming. “Harry is only ten, Sirius, he hasn’t even gotten his Hogwarts letter, and you’re _already_ trying to get him killed? You’re his godfather, you have got to take this more _seriously_!”

An involuntary laugh from the child and the man softened her eyes a bit, but she looked betrayed by her own reaction. Before she could chew him out anymore, though, James and Remus walked onto the back property, and Peter followed out after them a few moments later, carrying a slice of cake and a bottle of butterbeer.

Sirius almost cheered, he was saved from the wrath of Lily Evans Potter by his best friends, life couldn’t be any better.

“Jamesy, Pete, Remus, the light of my life, you have impeccable timing mates, how’s life? And how on earth can you even stand to be in the same space and this lovely woman I have beside me, she’s practically glowing with beauty, am I right?” Sirius said, giving them all his best Black grin, the one that made girls swoon, boys envy, and McGonagall glare.

“James, do you know what Sirius did?” Lily pointed toward Harry, who was still holding the broom, “He gave your son a full sized broom. And allowed him to fly it.”

“With supervision!” Sirius interjected, feeling as though her description was a bit too biased. It wasn’t as if he had let Harry go up there _alone_.

Lily glared again, looking startlingly like the love of his life Minerva McGonagall, but he was not wearing his Black grin, so the effect was lost some.

“Mate, this is a Cleansweep Six, we had these back at Hogwarts!” James exclaimed, having come closer to inspect the broom still being held in the hands of his son, who seemed to be attempting not to grin wildly.

“James!” Lily said, to almost deaf ears, since James didn’t seem all that affected by her anger.

“Love, it’s fine, Harry won’t ride it anymore, but when he does get on the _Gryffindor_ Quidditch team, he will fly this very broom to victory!” James was grinning the way he would after a particularly good prank back in fifth year, and Lily’s exasperated groan disappeared with her as she went back into the house.

Overall, Sirius thought, it was a rather good day.

* * *

On the day that Harry Potter’s Hogwarts letter arrived, it was less than a week before his eleventh birthday, and the night after the full moon.

The owl carrying the letter in question interrupted Lily Potter’s preparation of a late breakfast for the two canine-men that were currently residing in the Potter’s guest bedroom, and almost startled her into dropping a plate of food right onto the kitchen floor.

She fed the owl a treat from the bowl by the window, and with a smile she took the tray of food, and the unopened letter into the guest room, where her husband, her son, and Harry’s godparents were all chatting around the bed, where Remus lay, looking a little haggard and tired, but better than most times she’s seen him after a full moon.

“Lily, I could kiss you,” Remus started, seeing the plate, before he paused, when he saw the letter beside the pitcher of juice.

Of course, everyone in attendance knew what it was—they had all gotten a letter of the same sort, way back when, in a time where one of them didn’t even know what magic was, and another didn’t know if Hogwarts would let someone like him in.

“Harry, there’s a letter that’s been delivered for you,” Lily said, as she presented the boy with the thick envelope, watching as her son’s eyes and smile widened, and how quickly he tore off the seal, and unraveled the contents.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_


	2. books, wands, and choices, oh my!

“All right, we’ve got your robes, gloves, a winter cloak,” Lily said, only to be interrupted by Sirius’s disgusted, “And that wretched hat, honestly, I don’t see how a woman as stoic and elegant as my lovely Minerva has the ability to see those little kids wearing those terrible pieces of head ware, it’s one of life’s great mysteries, along with how James finally got you to marry him.”

“That’s incredibly offensive, thanks ever so much for that, Padfoot,” James said, his smile strained.

“You’re quite welcome, Prongs, I meant every word.”

Harry was content listening to his godfather—“Dog-father, Harry, get it right!”—bicker along with his fellow Marauder. It only served to make him that much more excited to get on the train in a few days, and make friends of his own.

“Mum,” Harry began, as they walked into the bookstore, “Do you think I’ll make friends like Dad did? At Hogwarts?”

Lily looked around distractedly, for the newest edition of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ , but she paused when she registered her son’s words.

“Why of course, dear. I mean, I know you’ll make great friends, one will only hope you won’t get in as much trouble as your father did at your age,” Lily cringed at the thought—she had laughed at one howler from Mrs. Potter back in third year, but now, imagining the thought of her being on the other side of that letter, yelling at Harry for mischief, it made her skin crawl. “Yes, you’ll be just fine, dear. Plus, Molly and Alice’s sons will be staring up with you, and you’ve played with the both of them before. If nothing else, you’re not going in there alone.”

Harry smiled at that. “Thanks, Mum.”

“You’re welcome, darling. Now go find _A History of Magic_ , we’re almost done with your shopping.”

Harry walked through the stacks of school books, the scent of their pages tickling his nose. He enjoyed the smell of books, something his father told him he inherited from his mother. His eyes glanced over the titles, until finally, he found what he was looking for, and after flipping through some pages, he went back to his mother with his find. The part of four reunited in front of Ollivander’s shop, for their last stop; getting Harry his first wand. His hands shook a bit, just as he entered the shop, with his family behind him. When they got to the counter, there was no one there, but as if by instinct, a rather disheveled man came from the back room, and came right up to Harry, eyeing him up and down. It rather startled the young boy, if he was perfectly honest.

“You’re the _spitting_ ,” he did spit, just slightly, on Harry’s cheek, which was a little creepy and a lot gross, “image of your father, young Potter. But your eyes are all your mother.” He turned to the people in question, and gave a genuine smile to the both of them. “Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans, lovely to see the both of you again, and my great thanks to you both for all you’ve done for all of us.”

“Mr. Ollivander, you know it’s Evans Potter now,” Lily laughed, but shook the man’s presented hand gladly, “We’ve come looking for a wand for Harry, he’s finally going to Hogwarts, and you know we only seek a wand from the best.”

“Kiss-arse,” Sirius coughed, only to be elbowed right in the ribs by James.

Mr. Ollivander was spurred into motion by Lily’s words, and he began handing Harry a plethora of different wands, with various woods and cores, none of which had the strongest reactions to the boy. Harry was starting to get nervous again—what if he couldn’t get a wand from Ollivander’s, the way his parents had? He was so distracted by that worrisome thought that he almost didn’t notice the wand in his hand. He might’ve dismissed it altogether, just like the various others, if it hadn’t been for the way it grew hot in his hand, and how brightly it shined in his hand. His mother clapped, and his father smiled, and Harry knew he had finally found the wand that suited him.

“Ah, yes, a great choice, lad. A powerful wand, for a surely powerful wizard.” Ollivander said, placing some of the other boxes back onto his many shelves. “11” long, made of holly, with a phoenix feather core. A truly rare one, indeed. Very few wizards are able to successfully yield a wand of this power, young man. I expect we will see great things from you.”

“We sure will,” Sirius chimed in, “our little Harry is going to do big things at Hogwarts, just like his father.”

“Not a chance, Sirius,” Lily said, before turning to Mr. Ollivander, “thank you for everything, Sir. How much for the wand?”

Lily paid for Harry’s wand, and they packed up everything into a bag she had, before heading back toward the entrance to Diagon Alley. As they walked, they past a store selling pets, and without words, Sirius and James ran into it, leaving Lily and Harry on the cobblestone, looking confused.

“Oh, dear,” said Lily, “oh, as long as they don’t buy a rat, everything should be alright.”

“Or a toad,” said Harry, “they’re slimy and I don’t want one.”

They grimaced at the thought of it hopping around, but they needn’t have worried, of course, since, being James Potter and Sirius Black, they bought Harry a beautiful snow-owl, and the two men presented the bird to the boy with a flourish.

“Behold,” James said, “your new best friend. What shall you name it, Harry?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Harry asked.

“Name them Elvendork, Harry,” Sirius said, “it’s unisex!”

“Sirius,” James and Lily said in unison. “It’s a girl, Harry. Name her whatever you want.”

Harry seemed to have made up his mind within moments, “I’ll name her Hedwig.”

“Hedwig?” Sirius said in dismay, before being once again elbowed in the ribs, this time by Lily. “Hedwig is a lovely name, Harry.” Lily said, leading him by the shoulders out the door, as he held his new pet carefully in her cage.

* * *

On the evening of August 31st, 1991, the Potters, along with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, sat around the table of James & Lily’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow, having their last big family dinner before Harry was off to Hogwarts. The thought of Harry going to the school they had all loved so much had started a flurry of stories to go around the table, as the adults regaled the boy with tales of their time at the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“Dungbombs, Harry,” Sirius began with glee, “will be your best weapons. It’s the most effective way to clear a room, and we would know.”

“Sirius,” Lily said, “you are not going to turn my son into a delinquent.”

“Delinquent?” Sirius screeched in a rather undignified manner, “Say that to my face!”

“Padfoot, she quite literally just did,” James pointed out, and Remus had to lay a hand on Sirius’s shoulder for comfort. He was always quite dramatic when he was offended.

“I’ll have you know, your husband was one of us _delinquents_ , and you married him!” Sirius said, wildly pointing at Lily. She seemed unaffected.

“Yes, and I remind him of the fact every day. It rather helps me take the moral high ground to remind him that I was a Prefect far before he was Head Boy.” Lily said, a smile creeping onto her face. “I just don’t want you to pressure my son into being just like you were at school, he’s free to become any kind of person he wants to be.”

“Unless that person is like Snape, in which case, I will have a serious issue.” James added, and Lily gave him a short look but said nothing.

“Lily, if Harry is anything like Jamesy—and we have biological evidence that he is fifty percent like Prongs, he will be another brave and powerful Gryffindor.”

That gave Harry pause from his place at the table; what if he wasn’t like his family? He was sitting at a table with five Gryffindors, how could he not be one of them? He was sure that confusion and fear showed on his face, as Remus interjected into whatever else Sirius was saying about Gryffindor pride.

“Sirius,” Remus said, elbowing him.

“Why does everyone elbow me?” Sirius asked.

“Because you talk too much,” Remus said, before looking at Harry and saying, “Who knows, Harry could always be a Hufflepuff, he’s quite loyal and kind.”

“Anything but Slytherin,” Sirius muttered, and Peter raised his glass to that.

“I doubt Harry would be a Slytherin.” James said.

 _But what if I am?_ thought Harry. He had always been particularly easy to read, particularly to his mother, and she must have realized, just as Remus had, that something was up with him, since he was still silently poking through his Shepard’s pie.

“That’s enough, all of you. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. Just let Harry be who he is, and if he’s a bloody Slytherin, then I expect all of you to go out and buy emerald scarfs and hats for the first quidditch game of the season, _understood?_ ” Lily said, and the men at the table nodded sheepishly. A small smile found its way onto Harry’s face, particularly over his godfather’s face, which was one of someone who had eaten too many sour candies.

James and Lily began clearing the table, and as they stepped into the kitchen, Harry heard his father say, “You know, you’re quite scary sometimes.” Lily’s laughter floated back to the table, and Harry couldn’t help but let out a snicker.

* * *

The next morning saw the Potters and company on platform 9 ¾, awaiting the Hogwarts Express. James and Sirius had been teary all morning, leading to Lily having to hit the both of them with oven mitts during breakfast, saying, “If you guys make me cry before we even get onto the platform, I will hex you!”

Harry could feel his nerves growing, but he could feel excitement thrumming in his fingers alongside the anxiety. He was finally going to learn all of the spells that his parents used on a daily basis, how to brew potions and take care of magical creatures, and how to just be a _wizard._ He had been looking forward to it for _years_ , listening to his family speak of Hogwarts, and now he was going to see it with his own eyes.

“Harry!”

He turned to see a gaggle of redheads heading toward them, and he smiled a bit, seeing Ron Weasley waving wildly at him from next to his mother.

“Hello, all!” Molly Weasley said cheerfully, and the adults all chorused their hello’s. “Hello, Harry. Excited?”

He nodded at the woman, before Ron took his attention back. “Mate, Fred and George said that there’s a cake at the Welcoming Feast that _explodes_! It’ll be wicked!”

“There had better not be!” Mrs. Weasley said, overhearing her youngest son. “And if there is, you two can’t even imagine how much trouble you’ll be in!”

“Yes, mum.” The twins said in unison, before they ran onto the train, yelling goodbyes over their shoulders. Mrs. Weasley fussed over Ron, and the Potters took that as their cue to begin their goodbyes.

“You know we’re so proud of you, Harry,” James began, tears leaking out of his eyes.

Lily smacked his arm with a glove, before using it to dab at her own eyes. “Bloody emotions, they’re horrendous sometimes. We love you, Harry. We expect an owl every Saturday, no exceptions!”

“Lils,” Sirius said, throwing an arm over her shoulder, “why are you giving him assignments before he even gets on the train? Ow!”

Another elbow to the ribs for Sirius Black.

“You’ll be just fine, Harry,” Remus assured him.

“Just as long as you don’t miss the train!” Peter added, which led them all to quickly usher him aboard, yelling goodbyes and i-love-you’s at his back. He found a carriage with Ron sitting inside, and he settled into the seat, waving at his family, and watching as they slowly faded off into the distance, as he was finally on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry said his first words, the kid’s growing up


	3. train rides and sorting ceremonies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behold, the chapter of blatant plagiarism, for the good of the fic. i will (hopefully) never have to steal this much from the original book ever again.

Harry had just bought a spread of every sweet treat imaginable from the trolley for him and Ron, when the two boys, mouths full, heard a knock on the door of their compartment. A teary face peered in, next to a girl with full curls and chocolate skin, and after a moment, Harry recognized the boy.

“Neville! What’s wrong, mate?”

“Oh, Harry,” Neville said, sounding watery, but a little relieved. “Have you seen a toad at all? I’ve lost Trevor!”

The two boys shook their heads, and Neville collapsed on the seat next to Harry, looking miserable. The girl he was with stood in the doorway, looking conflicted as to whether or not she should come in. “Hello, there,” Harry said awkwardly, and the girl looked at him. “Would you like to sit with us?”

“Very well then,” She said, then sat next to Ron. She picked up a Chocolate Frog, eyeing it skeptically. “What in the world is this? They’re not _really_ frogs, are they?”

“No,” said Ron from beside her, “but see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa.”

“What?” she asked. Harry realized then that this girl must be a muggle-born student.

“Oh, are you muggle-born?” After she nodded, he continued, “Oh, of course you wouldn’t know then— Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect— famous witches and wizards. I’ve probably got about five hundred of them.”

“I still haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.” Said Ron, mouth full of another sweet.

The girl put the candy down, saying, “I probably shouldn’t. My parents are dentists, you know? So particular about how many sweets I eat, it’s better that I don’t get into the habit. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard—I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough— I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

Once she got going, she said this all very quickly.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered, spewing a few more crumbs onto the compartment floor.

“Harry Potter,” said Harry.

“It’s nice to meet you both, you both seem rather nice—and you too, Neville—I admit I was rather nervous to get on the train, I wasn’t sure how welcoming everyone would be, with me being muggle-born, I just haven’t had much experience being around so many magical people you know, I’ve just been doing some extra reading from some books I picked up, like _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_. Say, are you related to James Potter? I read that he helped take down the Dark Lord, he’s in all of the books I’ve been reading. Same with Sirius Black, and the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.”

“Yeah, James Potter is my dad, and Sirius is my godfather. I’ve met Dumbledore a couple of times, at ministry events, he’s very… interesting.” Harry said, smiling a little bit into a tart. Dumbledore was very much a man of magic and mystery— he’s like every muggle book’s version of a wizard, personified. All tall hat, long white hair and beard, and colorful robes with shiny details. It was a rather ridiculous look on such an old man, but somehow, it was what made Dumbledore, well, _Dumbledore._

“Goodness, well, you have a rather interesting life don’t you! Do either of you know what House you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad… Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. Your two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

“Whatever House I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron.

* * *

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” A familiar voice said, and Harry saw the looming figure of Hagrid, grinning at Harry. The boy hadn’t seen the man for a couple of years, but he remained virtually unchanged.

“Nice to see ya again, Harry! C’mon, follow me— any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

They went by rickety boat over the Black Lake, and they were able to see Hogwarts gleaming as they approached. Harry’s eyes were open in wonder— it was so much better in person than it had been in the pictures he’d been shown. All regal stone and bright lights, he was dumbstruck by just how _magical_ it was.

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out onto the pebbles.

“Trevor!” cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. The groups of first years then followed behind Hagrid, before stopping in front of a huge, oak front door.

“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?”

Hagrid smiled, then raised a gigantic fist, and knocked three times on the castle door.

The doors swung open, revealing a tall witch clad in emerald-green robes, and Harry almost choked.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid, and McGonagall thanked him, before leading the group into a large entrance hall, but Harry was no longer seeing the sights. Minerva McGonagall looked just as stern as she always did, but the effect was lost on Harry somewhat, since he had seen her be terrorized by one Sirius Orion Black on multiple occasions, and seeing the person who his godfather had, on various and uncountable occasions, called the “one true love of his life”, even in the presence of his literal _husband_ , was something he couldn’t simply ignore, just because this was meant to be an important day in his life.

“All right, mate?” Ron asked, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which is possible, but I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only one who would’ve seen it.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry whispered back, because this was not the time, nor the place to open up that conversation. Particularly in the ear-shot of the woman in question.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you’ll need to be sorted into your House. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your House, sleep in the House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.” She went on explaining each house, which Harry had heard about a million times, albeit probably in a less academic way than McGonagall was explaining it—

 _“Hufflepuffs are loyal but forgettable, Ravenclaws are gigantic nerds, Slytherins are literal_ actual _snakes, and Gryffindors are objectively the best, am I right?”_

_“Sirius, you’ve had, like, seven bottles of Firewiskey. Harry, don’t listen to anything he says!”_

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”

As they entered the room, Harry was in awe at the… _Greatness_ , for lack of a better word, of the Great Hall. Thousands of floating candles lit the room, hovering in midair over the tables, where students of all of the houses sat. Harry gazed at the ceiling, where he saw a pitch black sky, with stars dotted along it. He heard Hermione whisper, “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_.” Professor McGonagall led the first years into the space cleared in front of the teacher’s table, where there sat a stool, with a ragged old hat on it. Immediately, Harry knew what it was, as he had heard so many tales of how it had barely touched Sirius’s head, before proclaiming him a Gryffindor, much to the disgust of his family.

The Sorting Hat sang its song, and the Hall burst into applause, but quieted down when McGonagall stepped forward with a scroll. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A small blonde girl with pigtails sat on the stool, and put on the head, and after a moments pause, she was proclaimed—

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” said the hat again.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

A few more names were rattled off, a Ravenclaw, and a Gryffindor. Bulstrode, Millicent became the first Slytherin of the night.

Soon enough, though, a name Harry recognized was called.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione almost ran to the stool, and the hat was placed on her head.

“RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat, and Ron clapped along with the Ravenclaw table.

“Longbottom, Neville!”

The hat took a long while to place Neville, it was quiet for much longer than it had been for everyone else, but it finally shouted a confident, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

A few more names went by, and Harry heard a surname that was familiar to him from chats with his parents and ministry events, when a “Malfoy, Draco!” was called.

The hat barely touched the silver-blond head of the small boy before it proclaimed him a “SLYTHERIN!”

More names, so much so that Ron almost had to elbow him when at last, there was a—

“Potter, Harry!”

When he sat on the stool, and had the hat placed over his head, he heard a voice, which startled him, before he tuned into the words in his head.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, that’s interesting… So where shall I put you? Oh, I know!”

“SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted to the whole hall, and Harry was filled with a slight feeling of dread. He walked shakily to the Slytherin table to a round of applause, and sat next to the Malfoy boy. Only a few people were left to be sorted, and after two of them, it was a nearly green Ron’s turn to be sorted. After a few moments, the hat proclaimed Ron Weasley a “GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry clapped just as much as the Gryffindor table, feeling relieved that at least Ron made it into his house of choice.

The final student, a “Zabini, Blaise,” joined Harry at the Slytherin table, and McGonagall rolled up her parchment, and Albus Dumbledore took her place at the front of the room. “Welcome!” he said. “Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” And he sat down, to confused applause, and in the time they stared at the odd old man, a feast appeared before them. Harry had never seen so much food in his entire life. He put a little bit of everything on his plate, and as he tasted it all, he was delighted that it was all delicious.

“So, Potter, how does it feel to be sorted into Slytherin?”

Harry didn’t even realize he was being spoken to at first, but he saw Blaise Zabini was waiting for an answer from him, and he hurried to mumble an, “It’s all right, I guess.”

“My entire family has been sorted into Slytherin,” chimed Draco Malfoy, who looked like he was positively preening at being at the table. “Honestly, I would have been surprised if I hadn’t been sorted Slytherin.”

“I never really thought about what I was gonna be sorted into,” said Harry. “I wasn’t sold on any one house, I guess I’ll just have to see what it’s like to be a Slytherin.”

“It’ll be brilliant, trust me,” said Draco. “None of that _nonsense_ from Gryffindor. All they ever do is play pranks, at least that’s what my father said.”

“I’m sure that’s not all—” Harry began, but was cut off by frosting splattering everyone in the Great Hall, particularly the Gryffindor table, as, apparently, one of their cakes _did_ explode.

Harry expected to hear his first Howler tomorrow morning.


	4. letters to a slytherin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i greatly appreciate comments & kudos!! i mean let me know if you fuckin hate it and i’ll try to make it better lol

All of the houses were led out of the Great Hall, with many a student complaining of feeling sticky or having jam stuck in their hair—those following Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor Prefect, were complaining the loudest, because his table had been the one with the exploding baked good, and his brothers were the ones who made it explode. Harry followed behind the Slytherin Prefect, Gemma Farley, feeling a little glum. He walked with Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy, who were talking about a ministry event that Harry had been in attendance of, but had been bored out of his mind at. He didn’t know what he was going to do— obviously he would write to his parents tonight, to tell them of the sorting. But how would the go over? Even though his mother had said that if he was a Slytherin, it wouldn’t mean anything, how would they all take it when they knew it was _true_. Him, Harry James Potter, he was a Slytherin. He may look like his father, like Sirius and everyone else on the planet loved to point out, but apparently, he wasn’t much like him after all.

“All right, now, everyone,” Gemma said, stopping in front of a stone wall. “We have a password for our common room, which changes on a regular basis. For this first one, our password is, _felix felicis._ Got it?”

The first years all chorused the password, and the stone revealed itself to be the entrance to the Slytherin common room, which was an ominous green color. Everything was fashioned in darker colors, and from what Harry could see, the windows opened out into the Black Lake, which was the culprit of the green light.

“Wicked,” a first year said, one who Harry vaguely remembered to be, “Nott, Theodore.” Harry was impressed by the fact that they seemed to be under water, but he mostly was looking forward to seeing the bathroom, so he could wash cake bits out of his hair. It was unruly enough without sugar crystals forming in it.

“Right through there, first two doors on the left, are the first years boy’s dormitories, and the bathroom is right across the hall. Girls, I’ll show you to your rooms. Curfew is at ten o’clock, which is in twenty minutes, so I would suggest that you stay in, and get a good night’s sleep before classes start. Tomorrow at breakfast, I and other Prefects will hand out your schedules. Good night,” said Gemma, before she disappeared into another area of the dorms along with the first year girls.

“I call first shower!” said Blaise, and Harry darted after him, leaving a few other boys behind. After cleaning up, Harry walked into the first door, seeing that it was labeled with his name, along with Draco Malfoy, and Theodore Nott.

Harry saw his trunk in front of the farthest bed to the right, and he went to it, placing Hedwig’s empty cage inside of a closet by his bed. He went around to the side, reaching to pull back the covers, and he got into bed, letting the curtains block out the world, as he tried to forget where he was, and get some sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Harry rose before either of his roommates, and got ready, before sanding the halls a bit, in search of the Owlery. After a good amount of time searching, he found the hoard of birds, and Hedwig cooed in greeting. Harry had already written his letter, it was very standard, just consisting of how cool the castle was, seeing things that had been described to him for so many years, and how he had seen Hagrid on his way in, and McGonagall was as terrifyingly poised as ever.

_Love, Harry. P.S, I was sorted into Slytherin. See you at Halloween!_

He tied the letter to Hedwig before he could change his mind, and watched as she flew into the sky, before he walked back to his room. When he opened the door, he almost walked right back to the owlery. It seemed as though their room had been hit by a tornado, all except for Harry’s bed, and soon it became apparent the cause. Theodore Nott was running, galavanting, _sprinting,_ around the room, a tightly wrapped notebook in one hand, and his wand in the other, as he was chased, from bed to floor and back again, all around, by Draco Malfoy.

“Give it back! Bloody wanker! My father will hear about this, I swear to you!” Draco hollered, while being evaded by Theodore once again. In response, Theodore only cackled, and kept running.

“What in Merlin are you guys doing?” Harry questioned finally, after watching quite a few minutes of this from the doorway.

They both came up short, so much so, that Draco barreled into Theodore, which caused the boy to drop the notebook, and it slid to Harry’s feet. He picked it up, and held it in his hands.

“That’s mine! Give it back, Potter, or I swear-” Draco’s threat was cut off by Harry, handing him back the notebook without question.

“If it’s so important to you, you should buy a lock for your trunk,” Harry suggested. “I could lend you mine if you’d like, until you get one of your own.”

Draco’s mouth opened and closed wildly, rather like a confused fish. Harry walked to his own trunk in the other boy’s silence, and grabbed a lock he meant to have to close his case, but had forgotten to use. It was still in its packaging from when he had gotten it last summer.

“You can have this one, actually. I don’t see myself needing it, I haven’t even taken it out of the package.” Harry said, and placed the lock on Draco’s trunk. “Does anyone want to go down and get breakfast with me? I’m starved.”

* * *

Harry, Theo, and Draco went down to eat, and we’re soon joined by Crabbe and Goyle, two other Slytherin boys, who tried to flank Draco Malfoy almost immediately. He ushered them to sit across from the three roommates, with pointed glares that Harry was confused by, but he forgot about soon enough, when Blaise Zabini came and sat next to the two burly boys, with whom he shared his room with.

“Shove over, you big brutes,” Blaise ordered rather rudely, but Harry didn’t comment, because the boy had a crazed look in his eyes. “These two nuts kept me up all night with their snoring, I almost stunned myself just so I could get a moment’s peace, but I was afraid I would have a blister on my face.”

“Pity,” Nott replied, picking apart a piece of toast from next to Harry, “It would have been a much more interesting way to start the term.”

Owls started to pour in about halfway through their meals, and Harry was surprised to see Hedwig flying amongst them, and she dropped five letters, and a parcel on his lap. He offered her a few pieces of bread, and a scratch on the head, before she flew back to the Owlery. From his other side, Draco Malfoy also received a parcel, and he seemed particularly pleased with its contents.

“French chocolates,” He showed off to the table, “My mother sent them for me, as a congratulations on making Slytherin. I wonder how she knew.”

“You only had the fastest sorting since the beginning of time,” Theodore said, “maybe she had an inkling of what house you would be in since you were in the womb.”

Harry pages through his letters, nervous to read any of them, but he decided to open them strategically. First, he started with the one from his Uncle Peter, which was a very simple congratulations, assuring him that Sirius had only raged for about forty-five seconds before Lily almost threw a vase at his head. He also told him that he had started knitting, and that he went out and bought emerald green yarn just for Harry.

Next, he chose the one from his Uncle Remus. He knew that, of all people, Remus only wanted what was best for Harry, and it was fitting that he had been the one to send the parcel. It contained all of Harry’s favorite sweets, along with some chocolates of his own, because of their “healing quality”. _With Love, Moony_.

Sirius was next, and it was as stilted as it could be while still being sent from Sirius Black. Towards the end, his position as Godfather was cemented, in a sentence that could only have been coached by Remus Lupin; _you know I always support you in everything and anything you do, as your godfather (dogfather), and I love you no matter what. Love, Sirius Black. P.S. see you on Halloween, what kind of an ending to a letter was that?_

James Potter waxes poetic about how him being a Slytherin may be a good thing, and how he had worried since the day that he found out Lily was pregnant, that Harry might be just like him, and how he worried about how much trouble Harry might be, but if he was a Slytherin, maybe there was a chance that he could make his own Hogwarts experience, since he was already so different from James.

Lily was the hardest—Harry knew that there was no way that she would disown him, or hate him, or never speak to him. That was not the boy’s worry. It was more so, the idea of his head of house.

Harry had heard nothing but how terrible Severus Snape was, since he was a little boy, wanting to learn about the school he would one day attend, and with that, came the stories of the enemy of the Marauders. Snivellus, they would say, was a Slytherin greaseball, who lived to try to make their lives difficult. But they would never speak of him around Lily, not if they could help it. It peaked little Harry’s interest, back then, and when he asked his mother about Severus Snape, and her face tightened, and her eyes turned to ice, he knew there was more to that man.

“We were friends,” she had said, staring off blankly for a moment. “until we weren’t. I never liked the way your father and his friends treated Severus, but they weren’t the only ones doing wrong. And then, my friend turned into an entirely different person, and that was the end of that.”

Harry could see the man now— he had listened to Sirius walking around the kitchen in annoyed circles, Remus trailing behind him, after they had read in the papers that Severus Snape was named the newest Potions professor at Hogwarts. He knew what he looked like, as a picture had been included in the article, and he knew all of the history. The fact that Snape had attempted to out Remus as a werewolf, and had almost gotten himself killed in the process, only being saved at the last moment by James. How he resented the Marauders, and how the boys traded curses and tricks, all throughout school.

He opened the letter from his mother.

_My dearest Harry,_

_I have ordered you a green and silver scarf, as I doubt that Peter will finish his knitting before the next millennium, and definitely not before the first Scottish frost. It should arrive in the post in the next few weeks. I’m glad, for once, you inherited your father’s hair, since although mine is much more aesthetically pleasing, I simply cannot wear green without feeling like a Christmas tree. You, however, will look dashing, darling._

_I still expect my Saturday letter this week._

_Love,_

_Mum_

He kept the letter in his pocket the entire day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve just finished chapter six so i am a little ahead, i’m trying to have more written than i’m posting because i have work so i can’t always write as much as i’d like


	5. friends and foes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter isn’t that long i apologize but the next one is rlly long so look forward to that one ok

The first class of the day for the Slytherins was Potions, alongside the Gryffindors. Harry waved at Ron Weasley, who was already sat at a table with a boy Harry remembered was named Dean Thomas, a fellow Gryffindor. Harry took a seat at the table in front of the two boys, and was very quickly joined by Draco Malfoy, who almost shoved Theodore Nott out of the way. Nott rolled his eyes, and went to sit with Blaise.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off without a word by Professor Snape stalking into the room, already lecturing.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he said, and the class was so silent, you could hear drops of water out in the hallway. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death— if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

It didn’t seem possible, but it got quieter in the room. Harry was wide-eyed, and he turned slightly to make shocked eye-contact with Ron, who had somehow gotten more pale.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

“Uh,” Harry began, but was cut off by his Professor.

“Where would you look if I told you to find me a boazar? Or, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

His professor, and the room, looked at him expectantly, and Harry somehow managed to get his bearings.

“They’re the same plant. And a boazar is found in the stomach of a goat, and if you add asphodel and wormwood together, it makes a sleeping potion.” Harry said, tilting his chin up and staring straight into cold, black eyes. “ _Professor,_ ”

Snape stared, before snapping, “Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?” Everyone scrambled for parchment, as Snape added, “Four points to Slytherin for that, Potter. It would have been five, if not for your cheek.”

He set their pairs to make a boil curing potion, and quickly, Harry was realizing that for all of Lily Potter’s effort, he was pants at Potions.

“No, Potter,” Draco said, pushing his hands away from the cauldron. “If you add the porcupine quills now, you’ll surely succeed in _giving_ people boils, not curing them. We must take it off the fire first.”

Harry was frustrated, not necessarily by Draco or Potions in it of themselves, but more about the way that Snape was watching him so intently, as if wanting to see him fail. It was making him edgy, and his nerves made him unable to concentrate.

“Sorry,” he sighed, adding the quills on Draco’s command. “how can you do this so easily? I feel like he’s going to glare holes in the cauldron.”

Draco shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. I’ve made a few simple potions at home, anyway. It’s nothing particularly new for me. Plus, Severus _is_ my godfather, so I’m quite used to his glares. It may be the only way he can show affection. But in this case, I think it’s more mild contempt.”

Harry sighed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. He knew that James Potter, and the other Marauders had likely left a bad impression on Snape, but why was this grown man taking it out on _him_?

“Very nice work, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin for your excellent potion-making. Maybe you can show Mr. Potter how to properly brew something, instead of just riding on the coattails of someone with talent.” Snape sneered, walking back to the front of the room. “Class dismissed.”

* * *

Harry dropped onto his bed on Friday afternoon, shortly after lunch, and screamed into his pillow.

“I was going to offer you a cherry tart, but it seems like you are indisposed. Shall I come back later?”

Harry glared at Theodore, but sat up when he saw that the boy was truly holding two tarts, and Harry did actually want one. Theodore sat next to Harry, on the edge of his bed, and offered the other boy his spare pastry. “Now, now,” Theodore said, “tell your most neutral friend Theo your troubles.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Snape assigned three feet of parchment on the ways one could mess up a forgetfulness potion, which is incredibly dumb, asking a bunch of first years how they would _incorrectly_ make a potion they haven’t even been taught to _correctly_ make, but regardless, I can’t even get out a good sentence before I get stuck again. I swear, he made this assignment just to trip me up.”

“Don’t be so self-centered, it’s not always about you, Potter,” Theo said, rising from the bed. “get up, grab your book bag.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be daft, Potter, it’s not a good look on you,” Theo said, walking toward the door, “we’re going to the library, so Draco can help write your paper.”

Harry grabbed his bag, barely catching Theo’s muttered, “Merlin knows he’d write it all if you’d asked.”

* * *

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He was staring at his three feet of parchment, all written in his sloppy penmanship. He was _done_.

“You’re rather brilliant, Malfoy,” Harry said, smile on his face as he looked back over the paper. When he looked back at his table mate, he noticed the other boy was pink in the ears.

“Well, when you’ve had an upbringing like mine, Potter, it’s hard to be bad at Potions. After all, I spent my summers in France brewing potions for as long as I can remember,” Draco said this all with his nose pointed up, and he seemed rather proud of himself. Harry had to hold back an eye-roll.

“Right,” he replied, already packing up. “well, thanks for the help.”

Harry walked from the table, entirely missing Draco’s face dropping, and his head slamming onto the table, as well as Theodore’s, “Well done, _Malfoy,_ ” through laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> draco malfoy is me 100%


	6. the troll incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the longest chapter so far...

On a Sunday morning, Harry sat down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table.

“‘lo, Harry,” Ron said, through a fair amount of beans and toast in his mouth. Harry felt a few crumbs hit his robes, which he wiped off carefully.

“Seems you’re already enjoying your meal,” Harry commented, and Dean laughed from across from the boys.

“What’re you doing over here, Harry? Snakes get to be too much for you?” Dean asked, and Harry almost let out another groan at just the thought of his fellow Slytherins.

“You don’t even know the half of it. Theo and Draco kept me up most of the night arguing about who could brew a better wiggenweld potion. Draco kept insisting that because of his posh _French_ potions experience, he would brew a better one, which just let to him naming every single potion he’s ever brewed in his life. Which is actually more than you’d think, considering,” Harry explained, “but since it was three in the bloody morning, I wasn’t nearly as impressed as I might’ve been in the light of day. I had to threaten to throw my cauldron at him to get the git to just shut up and go to bed.”

Dean winced, and Harry didn’t bother telling them that, needless to say, he didn’t want to see his roommates this morning.

Hedwig came through at the tail end of his meal, carrying a letter from his mother, and a parcel containing pair of misshapen glove-like lumps from his Uncle Peter. She nipped his finger, so he gave her his last bit of bacon, before she few away.

“What’ve you got planned for the day?” Ron asked him, as they rose from the table.

“Homework, probably. At least all I have to write about is Charms, if it was Potions, I would be out of luck. Especially since I can’t ask Draco for help again.”

“I can’t believe you’re friends with _Malfoy,_ ” Ron shuddered. “You know, he’s almost as insufferable as Hermione. But at least he doesn’t fly out of his chair every five seconds trying to answer questions. Have you seen her? She practically has a fainting spell.”

They both chuckled, but paused when they were forced apart by someone rushing between them, and they only caught sight of a bushy head of hair before the person was gone.

“Aw, bloody hell,” Ron said, “do you think she heard us?”

“I doubt there’s any way she didn’t. Should we go talk to her?”

“Maybe she just needs time alone. Besides, it’s not like I said anything that wasn’t true.”

The two boys parted ways, and Harry returned to his House common room. He saw Draco flanked by Crabbe and Goyle on the couches in front of the fire, and the blonde boy’s ears turned fiery upon noticing Harry coming into the room. Harry was sure it was because of the night before, but, in his defense, he thought, the boy did brag for _far_ too long into the night. Harry went into his room, where he saw Theodore on his bed, nose in a book, but a weirdly blank look was plastered onto his face. He looked lost in thought, or a wild daydream, as his eyes were glazed over and vacant.

“Theo?” Harry said, trying to get the boy’s attention. He didn’t seem to hear him, but Blaise stopped in their doorway, and as the other boy spoke, Theo seemed to snap out of his trance.

“Did you guys hear? Apparently, someone let a troll loose close to the entrance hall, all of the Prefects are freaking out. Apparently, the staff can’t seem to track it down. Quirrell _fainted._ ”

“You know, Potter, the Granger girl went to a bathroom to cry pitifully near the entrance hall,” Theo said, “she may still be down there.”

Harry was baffled. “How do you even know about Hermione?”

“Oh, it was simply the talk of the remainder of breakfast, how you and the Weasley boy brought Ravenclaw’s biggest know-it-all to tears in approximately five seconds. It was rather impressive, actually.”

“We didn’t know she would hear anything, Ron was just complaining, it was meant to be harmless.”

“Well, no matter, it won’t even be an issue soon, seeing as she is likely about to be crushed by a troll. If she hasn’t already.”

Harry gulped. He knew Theo liked to be dramatic, almost as much as Draco, but he was much more inclined to be malicious and spiky in his statements. He could very well be bluffing just to make Harry feel guilty, but at the same time, there was a creeping feeling coming over Harry, and he knew that he couldn’t just wait and see; he had to act.

“I’m going to find Hermione,” Harry said, walking out the door, and he was quickly trailed by the other two boys.

“Potter,” Blaise said, “don’t be an idiot. The Granger girl is probably blubbering in the Ravenclaw dormitory, Theo just likes to be an arse.”

“I can’t be sure. What if she’s in trouble? It’ll be all my fault. I have to be _sure,_ ” Harry said, and by this time, he was already heading toward the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.

“Potter!” Draco called, already out of his seat, “Where do you think you’re off to? The Prefects told us to stay in the dorms, there’s a troll on the loose!”

“Hermione may be in danger,” He said, and Draco was already by his side, pulling on his sleeve.

“You’re going after the Ravenclaw girl? What’s the big deal?”

“She might be near the troll, the thing could kill her, I need to go make sure she’s all right.”

“I’m coming,” Theo said. “I’d love to see someone crushed by a troll.”

“Me too, then, if you insist on being so incredibly _stupid_ ,” Draco said quickly.

“I’m staying here. You’re all crazy, might as well let the only sane person in this House live to see Christmas.” Blaise said, and the three boys left.

Before they could even make it onto the main floor, they were met by Ron Weasley, whose face was redder than his face, as he huffed and puffed so loudly that he couldn’t get words out.

“Hermione,” He was able to get out, finally, “she’s not in the Ravenclaw common room. She’s _missing_.”

“Told you so,” said Theo, crossing his arms.

Ron looked at Harry, his eyes saucers, and Harry knew they simply had no choice.

“We have to find her,” He said, and they all started running through the castle.

* * *

Upon making it close to the girl’s restroom, they could hear a rhythmic noise.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

“Do you reckon that’s the troll?” Ron squeaked, his face pale.

A rumbling groan seemed to confirm his inference.

“It must be in the girl’s restroom,” Harry said, and when he glanced toward the other boys, he noticed Theo had gone blank-eyed again.

A scream echoed down the hall, and Theo sprang back to life, while Ron and Draco sunk back a bit. Harry walked closer to the door, but was pulled sharply back by Draco.

“Harry, that’s a troll, you could get _killed_ ,” He looked practically ill, but Harry knew there wasn’t another option.

“Listen, if you’re not going in there, go get Dumbledore, or McGonagall, or _someone_ , but I need to help Hermione.” Another scream was let out, and Harry rushed into the bathroom, and saw the fumbling creature going closer to a corner of the room, where a curled up Hermione Granger was sat, shaking, and looking close to losing consciousness. The creature was taking down sinks as he made his way toward the girl, and Harry barely noticed the presence of people near him when he heard a yell to his right.

“Oy, pea-brain!” Ron yelled, throwing a metal pipe at the troll, which didn’t seem particularly bothered by the pipe to its shoulder, but turned as it registered the noise. Harry took a chance, and ran around the troll, pulling Hermione up by the arm, and urging her to run, though she seemed to have been turned to stone by terror. The great big thing was swinging its club toward Ron now, who was having to throw himself out of the way, as the impacts hit tiles and pipes all around the room with every missed swing.

Harry had his wand out, but he couldn’t think of anything that could possibly help him, and he faintly noticed Theo creeping around the room, around the troll, and closer to him and Hermione.

Theo seemed to whisper a spell, which caused the troll to screech in pain and turn toward the three huddled in the corner, which gave Ron a reprieve from the attacks.

It hobbled toward them, and Harry’s mind practically vacated, and he felt almost removed from his body, he had no idea what they were to do, and when he looked at Ron, he saw the boy had much the same look on his face as Harry was sure was on his own. The Gryffindor raised his wand, and he seemed to cry the first spell to come to mind: “ _Wingardium Leviosa_!”

The club raised out of the troll’s hand, and slowly out of reach, before it tumbled back down, dropping onto the creature’s head with a loud crack. The troll swayed, then fell flat on its face, with a loud thud that shook the room.

Harry registered that he was shaking, and Ron seemed to be out of breath, as they all looked at the troll’s now still form.

Hermione spoke first.

“Is it—is it dead?”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry, “I think it’s just been knocked out.”

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps caused them all to snap back to reality. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, and Draco Malfoy with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at all of them, and Harry had never seen her look so angry. Suddenly, he had a hysterical thought, that this must have been the face that she turned on the Marauders when they were her students.

“What on earth were your thinking?” said Professor McGonagall, with ice in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitories?”

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

Then a small voice broke the silence.

“Please, Professor McGonagall—they were looking for me.” Hermione finally seemed to have regained control of her limbs. “I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could deal with it on my own—you know, because I’ve read all about them.”

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a blatant lie to a teacher?

“If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Theo hit it with a spell and Ron knocked it out with its own club, and Harry tried to help me out of here. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”

“Well—in that case…” said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, “Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?”

Hermione hung her head.

“Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Ravenclaw for this,” said Professor McGonagall. “I’m very disappointed in you. If you’re not hurt at all, you’d better get back to your dormitory.”

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to the three boys.

“Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win five points for your houses. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go. You too, Mr. Malfoy”

They hurried out of the chamber, and didn’t speak until they were on a main landing.

“Malfoy, what did you tell McGonagall?” Ron asked.

“I just told her that the troll was in the girls bathroom and I thought there were students in trouble,” He said. “You really knocked out a troll?”

“Yeah, it was _crazy,_ we _definitely_ should’ve gotten more than five points a piece for it. Hell, you’re gotten more for being normal at potions.” Draco frowned. “You saw it, it’s gigantic, and we could’ve died! We could’ve _died._ ” He repeated softly to himself.

“I can’t believe Hermione covered for us,” Harry said, “even after what happened. She could’ve blamed it all on us.”

“She’s not that kind of person. It’s obvious, she wants to be your friend. She wouldn’t go crying in a bathroom because _just anyone_ called her a know-it-all.” Theo pointed out. The four boys returned to their respective common rooms, and as the three Slytherins got ready for bed, something kept niggling at Harry.

“Theo, how did you know Hermione was in the bathroom?”

Theodore Nott looked at Harry for a moment, before he closed his curtains, and said nothing.

* * *

From that day forward, the boys were friends with Hermione Granger, because there was some things you couldn’t go through without ending up liking one another, and fighting a giant troll happened to be one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol if you thought this was long just wait until chapter seven (also ten points to whatever your hogwarts house is if you can guess what i’m doing with theodore nott)


	7. an anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im trying to post farther apart so i have more time to write, so i’m sorry for any waits, but i hope they’re well worth it!

When Halloween rolled around, Harry realized that he hadn’t made it past the troll incident without consequences.

Due to the anniversary of Voldemort’s demise, there was a wizarding holiday on Halloween, and the students were allowed to accompany parents to the ministry celebrations if their parents deemed it a priority, and being the son of two important members of the Order of the Phoenix, one of whom had an almost direct hand in ridding the Dark Lord from the world, it was a requirement that Harry attend the event. His parents collected him in the Headmaster’s office, and via floo, they left to the ministry. Harry dusted off his robes as he stepped into the main floo port, and before he could wipe his glasses, his mother was speaking.

“Harry James Potter, you fought a _mountain troll_?”

Although she was nearly whispering, Harry felt the full force of her disappointment.

“Mum, I was helping a friend,” he said, “she nearly died, what would you have done?”

She opened her mouth a few times, before shutting it, and sighing.

“Harry, just, _try_ to stay out of trouble, I beg of you. It was enough stress going to school with your father and his friends, it’s not nearly as easy being the parent in this scenario.”

“Tell me about it,” James muttered, “this is, quite literally, my worst nightmare come true.”

“No, Prongs, it’s the universe’s form of payback.” Sirius said, stepping out of the floo and somehow looking immaculate.

Remus stepped out after him, looking smudgy, and confirming the idea that maybe it was just a House of Black thing, always looking your best. Peter was the last to arrive, and they all greeted one another, before heading into a large ballroom. People were milling around everywhere, but they stopped to politely clap at the entrance of the Potters and company, before they returned to quiet conversations. Witches and wizards flitted around with trays, serving small plates to the guests, and Harry took to people-watching as his parents were pulled into a few conversations.

He looked around, seeing the Longbottom’s speaking to the Weasley’s, and he caught sight of Blaise Zabini and his mother across the room. He noticed a few more people from school, and he traded nods and waves with a handful of them, when they noticed his glances. His attention was drawn away when he heard his name, and turned to find Draco Malfoy, standing with his parents, Narcissa and Lucius.

“Hi, Harry,” Draco said, “my parents wanted to see you, I guess they don’t believe that we’re _actually_ friends.”

“Draco,” Lucius reprimanded, and Draco gave the tiniest of eye rolls. Harry’s parents caught sight of the four of them, and came over, and an air of awkwardness descended upon the area.

“Lucius Malfoy, how do you do,” Lucius said finally, “this is my wife, Narcissa. It seems our Draco has sparked a friendship with your son.”

“Indeed,” Lily said. “Well, I’m Lily Potter, and this is James, and you obviously know Harry. We’ve heard a bit about your son, actually.”

“I’m quite sure it is not nearly as much as we’ve heard about yours,” Narcissa stated, raising a glass of wine to her lips, as Draco’s head snapped back, his ears reddened.

Lily gave a slightly surprised smile, and a small chuckle. “Is that so? Why, that’s interesting.”

James was apparently sizing up Lucius, and vice versa. It was like a scene from one of those animal shows on muggle television.

Draco and Harry looked to one another, and Draco quickly grabbed Harry’s sleeve and walked away from the two sets of parents. He led them to where Ron, Neville, and Theo seemed to be engrossed in a conversation. Or, at least they were trying to have a conversation, since Theo’s face made it clear he would much rather be eating a vomit flavored Bertie Bott’s bean.

“Oh, thank Merlin, I couldn’t take a second more of this,” the Slytherin boy grabbed at Draco’s sleeve, pulling him close to his side. “they think the _Cannons_ will make it to the cup this season.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but he saw Draco’s face take on a look of disgust.

“It’s impressive, we just need a Ravenclaw, and this would really be a picture of inter-house unity,” Blaise said, sidling up to them, and slinging an arm across Harry’s shoulder, which he tried to shove off, to no avail.

“There’s a few too many Slytherins for that, don’t you think?” Ron said, “Even with a Ravenclaw, you still outnumber us.”

“Well that’s because we’re far superior, Weasley, haven’t you caught on to that?” Blaise was grinning, knowing full well that he was pushing all of Ron’s buttons.

“Neville, how’s Trevor doing?” Harry cut in, and he changed the subject for as long as it took for speakers to start to take the stage toward the front of the room.

“Citizens of our Magical Community, we’re glad to have you all gathered to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the freeing of our people, from the devious clutches of the Dark Lord. We gather here today to remember the lives lost, and those who stood up in the face of adversity, in the hopes that our children might see a world without hatred, one where we are all treated the same, regardless of blood status. Now, we ask for a few words from one of the key members of the prestigious Order of the Phoenix, Auror James Potter!”

Many cheers rang out, including from Harry, at the mention of his father. He heard a few from behind him, and he noticed that his family had gravitated toward him and his friends. His mother put a hand on his shoulder, and he smiled up at her as his father took to the stage.

“Good evening, everyone, I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves. If you’re not, there’s always time to go the Leaky Cauldron after this,” laughter spread through the room, “I know that tonight, we’ve come together, to remember the lives we’ve lost in this battle. People who were our friends, our families, and our classmates. Magical folks who did not shy away from standing up to a man who saw only his own interests, rather than the well-being of the Wizarding World. There were plenty of people who shared his ideals, who shrank back in the face of evil and welcomed it into their hearts, and some still harbor those feelings. In this room, we show another picture of unity, because although we have fought a war, there are still those who do not see our victory as such. But remember this, there will never be a time when I, nor the people I hold close, will not fight to make sure that this world is safe for our children, and those we hold dear.”

Harry felt his mother’s hand tighten, and from across the room, he felt his father glance at him. Another set of eyes caught his attention from a dark corner, and as his father continued on with his speech, Harry located the dark eyes of Severus Snape, glaring holes into Harry and his mother, before looking with malice to James on the stage. Harry looked up at his mother, and saw she was focused on Snape as well, her intelligent eyes cold, pointed in his direction.

The two Potters clapped along with the crowd, as James made his exit, and soon he was by their sides again, and Albus Dumbledore, dressed in one of his normal, eccentric and ostentatious robes, complete with a matching hat.

“Lovely job, darling,” Lily said, as James gave her a kiss on the cheek. Harry saw Snape’s lip curl, before the man swept out of the room.

* * *

The students all returned to their dormitories, but even into the night, he couldn’t shake the look from his teacher from his mind. Sure, he knew that his father was unkind to the man at Hogwarts—James never tried to dismiss that. That was the one thing that James said he truly regretted from his time in school, and he had engrained that guilt onto his son, telling him to never allow silly rivalries to turn so toxic. But knowing that guilt existed in his father, he couldn’t imagine how that much hatred could be held in his Head of House’s eyes. The fact that he had turned that anger on Harry and his mother made it worse, and Harry slept terribly, thinking about the fact that he had double potions in the morning.

At breakfast, Harry felt like a zombie, and every time he blinked he saw black eyes, and shudders continually ran down his spine. He kept drifting, missing out on conversations until his name was said, and he would be pulled back for a few moments.

“ _Harry,_ ” he heard finally, punctuated with a pull to his sleeve, and he saw Draco’s exasperated expression.

“Sorry,” he said, “what was that?”

“Draco has been trying to impress you for the past ten minutes,” Theo said, stabbing a strawberry. “obviously, his efforts went unnoticed.”

Draco fumed, but Harry was too busy glancing at the Staff table.

“Potter, I doubt Snape will fire off an Unforgivable at you at the breakfast table, contrary to your beliefs.” Theo said, and Harry snapped back to reality.

“How did you—you know what, I don’t even want to know at this point.” Harry shook his head, “I don’t think Snape wants me _dead_ , at least I don’t think he could be successful.”

Theo snorted, “At least try to keep your eyes on your plate, at the very least, if the way you’ve been staring at him is any proof, and you’re seriously convinced he may try something, you may want to keep yourself off his mind, lest you draw attention to yourself. Or maybe you’re in love with him, I haven’t decided yet.”

Draco’s head snapped up, and Theo almost snorted up his orange juice.

* * *

As the Slytherins walked back to the dungeons for their Friday double potions lesson, Harry felt increasingly filled with anxiety. He couldn’t seem to shake the image of his Professor glaring at his family, how cold and dark—

He ran into Theo’s back.

The other boy was completely still, and as Harry mumbled a sorry and tried to walk around the boy, he stood still, before snapping back into motion. As they entered the classroom, Theo grabbed his arm and pulled Harry down in the seat beside him, ignoring Draco’s squawk, as the blond was forced to sit with Zabini.

“Why—”

“For once, do shut up, Potter,”

Snape swept into the room right as the clock turned to eight, in a way that was obviously practiced drama. He wrote _Wiggenweld_ on the board, and Harry had to work hard to keep in a groan. He had much hoped, although it was unlikely, that they wouldn’t be brewing today.

“As this is a more difficult potion, I will be using it to gauge your usefulness in this class. Each person will submit their own phial, of their own potion. You may converse with your table-mate, but you must brew your own potion during this class period. Begin.”

Harry got his cauldron out, and made a miserable trek to the ingredients cupboard, before he walked back to his table. Theo was somehow already there, chopping up his own ingredients.

Harry thought everything was going quite well, until after a while of silence from Theo, the boy quickly switched their flobberworm mucus.

“Yours is a much nicer color,” he swiped the bottle, then quickly poured the contents into his cauldron, before Harry could say a word. Thoroughly confused, Harry just continued brewing, managing to make an almost turquoise potion, when he left it to simmer.

He left the class feeling accomplished, and he was sure he had gotten decent marks on his potion. Lily Potter would be proud.

* * *

Lily Potter would be furious.

Harry stared in shock at his sheet of grades, with a big, fat 20% on his evaluation. Next to Theo in potions once more, Harry was slightly annoyed to discover that the other boy had made a 90% grade on his potion.

“It’s official,” Harry sighed, letting the page float onto the table, “he has it out for me.”

“You may be right,” Theo said, snatching up Harry’s evaluation. “Professor Snape?”

Harry tried to cover Theodore’s mouth, but the boy licked his hand, and Harry recoiled in disgust, wiping off his hand on his robes, as their teacher came over.

“What, Nott?”

“Sir, I read on Harry’s evaluation that his flobberworm mucus was laced with powdered asphodel, and I just wanted to let you know that I switched my mucus with Harry’s during class, so he didn’t do that mix-up, it was me.”

Harry stared wide-eyed at Theo, but the boy kept going. “It must have been my mistake, although I grabbed my mucus from the cabinet, so it could’ve happened to anyone, couldn’t it? _Professor.”_

Snape’s lip curled, and he glanced between Theo, who’s face was carefully crafted into innocence, and Harry, who was staring up in shock.

“Well, Mr. Potter, it seems as though you are a bit better at potions than your grade reflected.” Snape seemed almost physically pained as he changed Harry’s grade from a 20% to a matching 90%.

“Do be more careful next time, Mr. Nott. You’re lucky that your mistake did not have worse consequences.”

After class was over, Harry stopped Theo. “Thank you for telling Snape about the mix-up, I really—”

“There was no powdered asphodel in your potion, Potter. Do be more careful, I think your intuition deserves to be trusted more; not everyone is as noble as you.”

He walked away with that, leaving Harry in the hall, once again, thoroughly confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i dislike snape y’all he’s not cool he’s just a creep so if that’s a deal breaker i’m sorry about that


	8. a wedding to remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y’all hope you’re not too mad at the wait—but this is another long chapter so i hope it makes up for everything!!

When Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express to go home for Christmas, he was rather torn on how to feel. On one hand, he was happy to see his family, and to get a break from his classes, which although were interesting, were not a walk in the park. On the other hand, he knew he would miss his friends, particularly, and surprisingly, his fellow Slytherins.

He had gotten used to their antics, and their presences almost constantly in his life, both good and bad. Harry guessed it was sort of similar to what it was like to have siblings.

Harry’s train compartment was full, with students of all House colors within. Neville, Hermione, and Ron were sat together, across from Harry and Theodore. Halfway through, Draco stopped by, and accidentally offended Hermione by bragging about how high his charms marks were, all because of some of his posh primary education. She was practically fuming by the time Draco took his leave, muttering to herself about how if she could, she would spell his mouth shut.

When Harry got off of the train, he was greeted by a small welcoming party, and he was scooped up by Sirius before he could fully take in the company. After being swung around, a bit like a muggle rag doll, Harry was placed back on his feet, though the world continued to sway.

“Sirius, look now, you’ve broken him!”

Harry shook his head a little, trying to reorient his eyes. When he was finally able to focus again, he saw the faces in front of him. His parents stood, of course, with big huge smiles on their faces, and next to them, stood the remainder of the Marauders. Aside from those constants in his life, he saw the faces of Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, and Mary Macdonald, three of the women who fought in the first wizarding war with his parents, and who had since become like family.

“Oi, Black, you broke my favorite Potter,” Mary complained, twisting her plait around a finger as she looked into Harry’s eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up, kiddo?”

“You’re not holding up any fingers,” Harry said, to a grin from Mary.

“Lucky, then. I like your brain kid: I was hoping it hadn’t gone to mush.”

Harry rolled his eyes ever so slightly, and Mary mussed up his hair, before returning to stand with Dorcas and Marlene.

“The girls have come to stay with us for Christmas, before the wedding.” Lily grinned at her friends.

The event of the year, it was supposed to be, and Harry was almost as excited to go to Marlene and Dorcas’s wedding as he was to go to Sirius and Remus’s.

“Are you excited?” Harry asked the women in question, as they walked away from Platform 9 ¾, and they gave him mirrored grins as a response.

“Terribly, it’s been a long time coming,” Marlene said happily.

Their merry band of eight made it to an apparition point, and Lily side-alonged Harry, with his suitcase, while Sirius allowed Hedwig out of her cage, so she could make the trip on her own.

Once again, the room spun, and Harry felt nauseated when the pulling stopped, and he was faced with the muted colors of the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow.

From his time at Hogwarts, it was odd for a moment that there was no emerald green all along the walls, but Harry was quickly pulled from that thought by the hustling of activity that commenced as soon as everyone was in the house.

Lily was chattering almost immediately once everyone had appeared in one piece, leading the girls upstairs to the guest rooms, asking for updates on this and that and who had gotten married and divorced, and the women behind her happily obliged as they all strode up the stairs. Harry followed then upstairs after a few moments, struggling with his trunk, before Remus took pity on him and shot a levitating charm at the trunk. Harry smiled appreciatively as he made it onto the landing.

He put his trunk at the foot of his bed, before coming back down the stairs, and he happily noticed that James and Sirius were spelling garland and twinkle lights onto the railing, as Peter and Remus were trying to transfigure a proper tree for the family room. Now that he had experience at school, Harry felt a sudden urge to use his magic as casually as his family did, and he was struck with an odd feeling of unfairness as he remembered that he still could not practice magic outside of school. He voiced this, as he struggled to put up ornaments on the tree, being unable to reach the top.

“What harm would a simple levitation spell do?” He sighed, as Remus used just that, to place the ornament in it’s proper place.

“I thought the same thing, kid, but it’s just how it is,” Peter said, and the ladies laughed as they joined them in the family room.

“Knowing you guys, you would have definitely abused the power if you had been able to use magic outside of school,” Marlene said, and Dorcas nodded along with her. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have spelled your brother’s eyebrows off, Sirius,”

Sirius frowned, before conceding to that argument. “But I managed to leave him eyebrow-less plenty of times without magic, McKinnon!”

Lily and Mary rolled their eyes, and Sirius high-fived Peter.

“Your pride at that fact is the most worrying point of this whole conversation, Black.” Mary said, to a stuck out tongue from the man.

Everyone pitched in to get the house properly decorated, as tradition in the Potter home, and Harry was lifted up by his father to place a star upon the top of the tree. Everything was glittering and glowing, and Harry felt ever so happy to be back at home. Even when, at dinner time, Sirius tried to steal the last piece of bread, just to almost get stabbed by Mary’s fork as she stole it away. He was surrounded by people he loved, and as he went to bed, in his own, familiar bed, he was entirely content.

* * *

When Christmas Eve rolled around, Harry realized as he sent Hedwig with her final parcel that he was more excited about his friends reactions to the gifts he’d gotten them, rather than receiving his own. He had never had real friends before, ones where he felt entirely obligated to gift them something personal for the holidays. He had gotten Ron an assortment of sweets, and on Lily’s advice, gotten Hermione a few new books that his mother had recommended for a young muggle-born witch, and he had found a scarf that was just posh and loud enough to be perfect for Blaise. Theo and Draco had been the hardest—he had been forced to seek advice from the most dramatic person he knew to find a gift for the latter; he had to ask Sirius. Harry had been intrigued by a crystal ball, and immediately thought of Theo when he had picked up the glass sphere, since his friend enjoyed pretending he knew everything about anything—he would surely get a kick out of making false predictions for students. When asking Sirius about the proper gift for a young, dramatic, pompous pureblood, who happened to be both a Malfoy and a fellow Black, Sirius had said, with glittering eyes, “Get him a proper jumper. I’m sure my cousin’s husband will have a right fit at seeing his son with some muggle clothes, but if Draco is anything like me, he will enjoy it.”

Harry had found a deep green jumper, trying to play it as safe as possible, so as not to wreak the wrath of Lucius Malfoy just because of a Christmas gift.

Harry had wrapped everything on his own, and send them all throughout the day via Hedwig, getting more and more excited with every passing hour.

He had dinner with his family, and during it, he was fidgeting more than Sirius usually did, earning him sidelong glances from his parents. They didn’t comment, but he could practically feel their confusion and suspicion radiating from their stares.

When he was finally able to get into bed, he found himself staring at the ceiling, to high-strung to fall asleep. He tried to bore himself with a few school books at one point, but he couldn’t even read a sentence at a time. He placed the book onto his stomach, placing his hands over the spine, as he stared at the ceiling. As the excitement thrummed through him, he imagined what it would be like for his friends getting the gifts. He imagined that Ron would be pleasantly surprised, and he would try his hardest to keep his treats away from the prying hands of the other Weasleys, happy that he had some sweets meant just for him. Blaise would probably be too proud to show any kind of pleasure in what he received, but Harry imagined that he would probably wear the scarf out to go to shops, and he would probably smile when he got compliments on it. Hermione would likely be finished with the books he’d send her before the Christmas hols were over, but he was already hearing her passionate analysis of the texts in his mind, and he made a mental note to ask his mother to tell him more about the books, or let him borrow her copies, so he could understand when Hermione spoke. Draco would more than likely never wear the sweater in his presence, at least not when he could see it, but Harry is sure he will probably don it at some point when no one else could see him wearing muggle clothes, lest his pureblood status be tarnished.

Harry couldn’t even fathom what Theo would do.

At some point during these imaginings, Harry must’ve fallen asleep, because when he woke, there was bright white light shining into his eyes, and he realized that he had fallen asleep with his glasses on, and they were now digging into his cheek. His book had fallen onto the floor, and Harry placed it onto the bedside table groggily, rubbing his eyes, before putting his glasses back on. It took him a moment to realize what day it was, and he was very quickly wide awake, throwing his door open, and almost falling down the stairs. Somehow, he was not the only one awake, as his parents were both sat in the kitchen, his mother sitting at the table nursing a cup of tea while his father was seemingly making pancakes.

“Morning, Harry,” James said, while Lily waved, her mouth full of tea.

“Morning,” Harry greeted, jittery again. He knew he had to wait for the rest of the house to awaken, as there were guests, and they needed to be present to open the, well, _presents_.

Harry sat at the table with his mother, hands under his thighs, trying to keep steady. He took and offered pancake, chewing absentmindedly, his gaze blank as he tried to focus on _not moving_.

“Merlin, Harry, you look like you’re about to have a fit,” Mary said, plopping down beside her, and Harry jumped a little. He hadn’t even known she was there.

Marlene and Dorcas joined them shortly, followed by Sirius and Remus, then finally Peter. They all ate their share, and Harry laughed as they stood up, Sirius racing to the tree, as if he was the child in the room.

Festivities went on throughout the day. Harry was delighted by a new pair of gloves from his father that were charmed to be particularly warm, along with some other baubles from his family. He laughed along with everyone else at Lily’s face when she opened another vase from her sister, Petunia, which was particularly garish. Harry wondered how long it would take for someone to inevitably break _this_ one.

Just as quickly as it had come, Christmas passed, and just after the New Year, the Potters and company sat and watched two of their closest confidants in front of the alter, vowing their eternal love. Harry was too young to truly remember Sirius and Remus’ wedding, and as such, he felt as though this was the first one he had attended. He was startled by how emotional everyone was, particularly Sirius Black, for all of his pureblood charm and air of perfection, was sobbing like a loon. James was close behind him, and Lily dabbed at her eyes from time to time.

Harry was more happy when the reception rolled around, as there was much less crying and much more _eating_.

He danced and stuffed his face and had two slices of cake and almost felt sick with how much he had consumed, and he was almost drifting off into a food induced trance when the shouting started.

Harry flinched, thinking for a moment it was just those on the dance floor, but then he noticed spells beginning to fly, and in a panic, he dropped to the floor, disappearing under the table.

He vaguely heard his father call something, and then his mother looking around furiously before she seemed to spot him. His ears were ringing a bit, he saw her mouth moving but he didn’t hear much, it was all so muffled, before the sound returned with clarity. The entire time his mother was speaking she was hurrying him off into the house, looking back behind her shoulder at the now-tattered remnants of the party. As quickly as the commotion started, it had ended, and soon James Potter was running back up to them, his expression grim but with underlying relief as he came closer.

“Thank Merlin, you’re both alright.” He sighed, looking over his shoulder, “though I wish I could say the same for Peter.”

Harry looked at his father in shock, and gazed frantically past him, trying to see anything at all.

He saw the familiar blonde hair, being held up by Sirius and Remus on either side, but he was conscious and appeared to be talking, so Harry let out a sigh of relief.

“What happened to him?” Lily asked, and she appeared to have been doing the same check that Harry had.

“Took a stunner to the head, and whoever did it also tried to use a severing charm on him, but they got caught before they could cut more than a gash in his arm. He’ll probably need to go to St. Mungo’s, but he’ll live. The bastard started shooting spells as soon as they were caught, but they only managed to destroy some centerpieces before they got away.”

Lily frowned, both at James’ language and at Peter’s experience.

Marlene seemed to be fuming, her face almost as red as her hair, while Dorcas pressed a piece of cloth to Peter’s arm.

Remus was given the task of giving Peter a side-along to the hospital, while everyone else seemed baffled at what to do. They all seemed to settle on tidying up, trying to get the tent to be at least a little bit like it had been before all of the commotion, and although they didn’t return to dancing, everyone did try to talk to each other, and eventually Marlene’s face was red from laughter, rather than fury, and Dorcas and her hands were intertwined, brown and white, as they lovingly gazed at one another. After a while, Remus and Peter arrived back at the party, to cheers, and the night managed to be rescued, with people leaving feeling less shaken, and more happy.

But even if they could push it from their minds for the moment, it still hung like a cloud—who had tried to kill Peter Pettigrew? James Potter seemed to be trying to solve the mystery from his seat, as he stared at his friend, and it made Harry wonder, too. What in the world was going on? And worse, would it happen again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue law & order dun dun* (also remember how harry potter is the most oblivious person on the planet? i did THAT gift on purpose for that reason.)


	9. the theo thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, first off, i am SO SORRY about the wait. i do have valid excuses though!! i was incredibly ill for two weeks (i’m gluten free and i was doing a celiac blood test—good news, i’m not celiac, i’m just incredibly allergic to wheat. so there’s that) and i’ve also been working but fear not! i am free to write for the next few weeks, since i am going on vacation and i am likely to have a lot of free time then! (i think this book may also be finished before my next quarter of college begins!) so although this update is a little short, there will be scattered new ones over the next few days, and there will be a lot of updates a lot quicker, so i hope you’ll forgive me! 
> 
> TL;DR: i was sick and busy but now i’m neither so that means more updates quicker!

When Harry returned to school, he had mixed feelings.

He knew, objectively, that with two Aurors, a wizarding lawyer, and a man who turned into a wolf once a month protecting him, Peter Pettigrew would be just fine. Aside from that fact, there was the addition of a woman from Marlene and Dorcas’s wedding—her name was Emmaline Vance, and she had been the one to fire off the first spell against the assailant—who had fallen in place in their lives with ease, and Peter was terribly besotted with her. It was kind of gross, Harry thought.

Harry had found an empty train compartment to brood in—he knew he wanted to see his friends, but he realized as he had boarded the train and heard the excited squeals and exclamations of students, that he wasn’t quite ready to go back to the hubbub of school; at least not yet. As such, he didn’t even attempt to search for his friends. In his quiet compartment, he felt more at home, even as he was pulled farther and farther from it. In the days following Peter’s attack, the Potters and company had been increasingly silent at most times. They didn’t have as much of the rowdiness that was commonplace, since they all seemed to be frequently reliving the event. It had reminded them all that they weren’t invincible—or invisible, for that matter— and it had shaken them to their cores.

Harry curled up a little more on his seat, watching stray water droplets gather and drift across the window, until the countryside faded away, and he was nearly back to school.

When Harry got inside of the castle, everyone was going into the great hall for a late lunch, but Harry couldn’t remember a time when lunch seemed less appetizing to him. He opted instead to return to the dungeons, and when he got to his room, he saw that his trunk was already at the foot of his bed, along with Hedwig’s cage. He was not unsurprised when, after doing a belly flop onto his bed, he was not disturbed for quite a long time.

* * *

Harry realized that the fact that he was alone was not wholly a coincidence when, as people started to trail into dorm rooms and sounds of laughter and jokes started floating into his room, he heard two sets of feet coming close to the door, before stopping abruptly. He heard a whispered argument, before he heard what was distinctly Draco’s voice saying, “I swear, if you don’t shut up, Nott, my father will hear about this!”

A thud and a muffled “ow!” followed.

Harry lifted his head to see Theodore Nott standing primly in the doorway next to a scowling Draco Malfoy, who was rubbing at the back of his head.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” Theodore drawled, tugging off his cloak and draping it across his bed. “you know, just from having your surname in the papers, Potter, you’ve created quite a stir.”

Harry frowned, and glanced to Draco, sort of hoping he would chime in to help _somehow_ , but only meeting the boy’s eyes for a moment before he shuffled to his bed.

“Well, Potter, how long have you been wallowing in your own pool of sadness?” Theo came to a stop in front of Harry, and his eyes were unnervingly locked in contacted with Harry’s own. “Come on, tell your friend Theo all about your troubles.”

“I don’t have any troubles,” Harry muttered, his voice cracking from disuse.

“Well, your stubbornness is rather annoying, Potter, so I’m going to ignore the deep sadness in your eyes and talk about something far more interesting; Christmas presents.” Theo whipped open his trunk and began talking rapidly about everything he had gotten. Draco chimed in soon enough, always one to enjoy a good brag, and somehow the two boys drew small laughs out of Harry, and for the first time since the wedding, Harry smiled, and felt at ease.

* * *

Theodore Nott was rather odd, and of course Harry knew that, but when asked if he enjoyed his Christmas present, he gave an incredibly baffling answer.

“I will, but I don’t think even _you_ know why.”

As such, Harry spent the remainder of the week in complete confusion.

He tried to ask Ron about it, but quickly realized that the boy’s distrust of most Slytherins made it hard for him to come up with anything even remotely important, and so Harry turned to the best source of reasoning; Hermione.

“Well, Harry, why did you get him the gift in the first place?” she asked, not looking up from her book as they sat in the library.

“He’s a know it all?” Harry said, but it came out more like a question. “He loves to be right, he _lives_ to be right. I just thought he may enjoy being a pretentious part who could pretend to see the future.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry could tell that she may be a little tired of him.

“Well then maybe it’s just that, Harry.” She finally looked at him. “Why must you make something out of nothing, here? Maybe he’s just trying to _be_ a pretentious prat, or he’s trying to make himself seem so important that it’s making you crazy. Did you consider that?”

“Hermione, he must be hiding something!”

“Well then why don’t you ask Theodore then?”

“Pray tell, ask Theodore what, Granger?”

Luck, divine intervention, or incredible misfortune had brought none other than Theodore Nott right to them. He was holding a book on divination, of all things, and Hermione took the jump for Harry.

“Theodore Nott, why are you acting so weird about the crystal ball?”

He gave her a small smirk, all arrogance, and said innocently, “I am just putting a gift from my friend to use. Is that a crime?”

Harry wanted to pull out his hair and possibly hit Theo with a book, but he knew nothing would help.

“No, I guess not, Theo,” Harry admitted. “You just seem more… cryptic than usual.”

“Maybe I am just trying to see it people can _actually_ see the future, Potter.” He smiled that smile again, before giving a sarcastic wave, and sweeping out of the library.


	10. the theo thing, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol remember when i said i would update within the week and then updated months later....  
> i know i suck you don't need to REMIND ME
> 
> every time i think about how long its been and the fact that i said i would update in a week i think of that john mulaney quote and i say to myself "and i said i would update.... y'know, like a liar."  
> this isnt even worth the wait lets be real but enjoy bc its all i have ok byeeeeeee

Needless to say, Harry did not let the Theo Thing go very easily.

He had taken to calling it that in his head—the Theo Thing, capital T’s and all—and he had been unable to push it from the forefront of his mind. Objectively, Harry knew that it was likely nothing, that his friend was just teasing, but the fact that he had been raised by multiple aurors, and had a wizarding lawyer for a mother, he knew that there was almost always something else to everything that people said. Spending extended periods of time with one Sirius Black also made him prone to odd bouts of fixation and sometimes mild paranoia.

So, Harry could not let it drop, which is probably why his friends were very quickly fed up with him.

“Harry, for the love of Merlin, could you shut up?” Ron puffed through clenched teeth; his face flushed as he tried to write a potions essay. “Mate, I have a hard enough time with potions without you theorizing about _Theodore Nott_ of all people.”

Hermione was trying to correct Ron’s work as he wrote it, and she paused for a moment to nod in agreement.

“Why don’t you just ask him, Harry? Or trust what he said, maybe he’s not up to anything.”

“He’s definitely up to something,” Harry muttered, but let the issue drop, at least for the moment.

Harry had taken to brooding in his room more and more often, half-hoping to, while he was in there, catch Theo doing something suspect.

He was glaring at a set of questions about the Polyjuice potion, when Draco Malfoy came in, holding an absurd number of books, and his face reminded Harry eerily of Hermione, and Harry thought it might be best to leave the other Slytherin to his work.

Harry took refuge in the common room, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the other students, some studying, some spelling notes into swans, which flew around and pecked at the heads of their friends. Harry was scanning the room, looking for a spot to sit, when he was grabbed roughly by the arm, and pulled into his room again.

Harry was flinched slightly as the door shut, and he was faced with a pale-faced Theodore Nott, almost as if Harry had thought him into existence. Harry was about to ask Theo why in the world he was shoving people into rooms, when he was cut off by the boy saying, “You’re in danger, Potter.”

Harry slammed his mouth shut, any response leaving his mind immediately.

Draco was pulled away from his books by this, and he came to stand by Harry’s side, eyes wide as they looked into Theo’s pallid faced.

“Theo, what in Merlin are you talking about?” Draco spoke before Harry could fully process.

“Draco, quiet a moment,” Theo said, rubbing his temples. He began pacing, and muttering under his breath, “it’s too blurry, it’s just not _clear enough_.”

“What’s not,” Harry paused. “Theo, what?”

Harry could not form full thoughts, his mind rebooting every few moments. He focused long enough to see Theo rummaging through his trunk, muttering inaudibly, before brightening and re-emerging with the crystal ball Harry had gifted him on Christmas.

There weren’t words in the room, but Harry and Draco’s eyes met, both of them wide and clouded as Theo walked to a desk, set up the ball, and pressed his forehead to it, his eyes wide open and staring into the wispy center.

Draco attempted to speak up, only to be silenced by a “shh!” from Theo, and Harry slowly walked toward the boy and his crystal ball.

He watched the other boy as he stared into the smoke, and Harry caught a glance of a mass of messy black hair, and a flash of green, before the smoke turned white again, and Theo fell out of his chair, and onto the hard floor of the dungeons.

Harry and Draco were snapped out of their stupors by this, and they raced to the other boy.

“Theo,” Harry said, shaking the boy’s shoulder.

“Merlin, Potter, you’re a _wizard_ ,” Draco sighed, “ _Rennervate_ ,”

Theodore jolted awake, blinking furiously. Harry opened his mouth to again try to get a comment through his throat, but on that, he failed again.

“Theodore Nott, what in Merlin’s name are you talking about? What do you mean Harry’s in danger? _Theodore_ ,” Draco looked about two seconds away from shaking the boy.

“Man, a man,” Theo started, looking shakily around the room. “A green flash, a spell, I don’t _know_!

“All I know, is there was someone with an incredibly ridiculous, out of control rats’ nest of a hairstyle, and glasses, and I think someone is trying to kill them.”

It seemed like the world stopped for a moment.

There were a lot of thoughts running through Harry’s brain. He immediately thought back to Marlene and Dorcas’ wedding, with the attack that had almost gotten to Peter, with the troll in Hogwarts, there were _so many things_.

Theo had finally managed to get back onto his feet, and he was muttering again, as he went to pick up the crystal ball that had tumbled to the ground in the commotion.

 _The crystal ball_.

“Wait, did you _see_ all of that?” Harry asked, baffled, and Draco leveled a look at him that made it very clear that he thought Harry was being particularly dense.

Harry was jealous for a moment that Draco had the ability to communicate so much through a look.

“Yes, I’m sure he saw all of that, Potter. Cause that’s a thing that _Seers_ , you know, _do._ ” Draco muttered, just loud enough for Harry to catch. Harry stuck out his tongue in response.

Theo slammed his trunk shut.

“If you two are finished flirting, we might as well turn back to the important issues. Or, do you _not_ care that someone may be trying to kill our Golden Boy?”

Draco crossed his arms with a _humph_ , while Harry just looked at Theodore, thoroughly confused. And annoyed, because he realized that most of the time he spent with his two fellow Slytherins left him confused.

“Theo, I don’t know a whole lot about Seers—” Harry started, with Draco interjecting, “you don’t know a whole lot about a _whole lot_ , Potter.” Harry sighed, before continuing, “— _I don’t know a whole lot about Seers_ , but, don’t you think there’s a chance I don’t have anything to worry about? I mean, I do know that Seeing can be some of the least reliable forms of magic, and the future is constantly changing,”

Theo looked at him blankly.

“Potter,” He began, and then seemed to change course. “I think you are absolutely right, I don’t know what came over me. What a fuss I caused, over nothing. I _sincerely_ apologize.”

Theo walked straight out of the boys’ room, and Harry let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Well,” Harry began, but Draco cut him off by slapping him in the arm.

“You’re the most idiotic human I have ever come in contact with, Potter.”

He swept from the room as well, leaving Harry trying to think over what had just happened, and once again, he was just left standing, confused.


	11. the epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all i hope you're all staying safe & self-isolating (if possible), and i hope you're all doing well. i haven't left the house for five days so far so my spring break is going spectacular. my college is also completely switching to online courses which is good for the virus but incredibly annoying for me because my work hours are being cut. but i digress--here's a new chapter, hope you all enjoy, and i hope it distracts you at least a little from what's going on. escapism!

In the coming days, Harry spent a lot of time thinking.

No matter how much Draco mentioned that he may hurt himself if he thought too hard, he couldn’t stop rolling the events over in his brain, over and over and _over_ , to the point that maybe, possibly, his head started to hurt.

He would of course never bring this up in front of Draco.

Harry thought about things in his classes while pretending to listen to Flitwick explain spells and wand work—he knew he could always look at Hermione’s notes later, or even Draco’s, if he begged long enough. He thought about it while he continued to suck at potions, and the only time he really paused was while in Transfiguration, because even feeling as though you’re on the verge of a mental breakthrough isn’t enough of an excuse to risk McGonagall’s glare.

Harry did, in fact, feel like there was something he was missing. He understood that feeling, and it was familiar. Sometimes things just felt like they were slightly out of reach, on the peripheral of his mind, and kept skirting away like a spot on his vision—disappearing just as he was about to fix his glance on it. The worst part was the fact that for the life of him, Harry couldn’t seem to push the thoughts from his brain. He usually was perfectly able to smother the thoughts in his brain, something which led to Draco inevitably rolling his eyes at him when he explained his talent for simply forgetting the things that confused him.

It wasn’t until two weeks later, far past midnight, with only the hazy green light from the lake filtering into the room, letting a slash of light through his curtains, that Harry finally had his epiphany.

Harry hadn’t felt like he was in danger, of course he wasn’t. He was in Hogwarts, and Hogwarts was one of the safest places in the world, with copious witches and wizards everywhere, and a castle built to protect its students. Of course Harry didn’t feel like _he_ was in danger. He was almost positive he wasn’t.

Theo had never said that he saw _Harry_ in his vision.

_There was someone with an incredibly ridiculous, out of control rats’ nest of a hairstyle, and glasses, and I think someone is trying to kill them._

There was only one other person who had messy hair like Harry.

This was why Harry didn’t particularly like thinking.

Not that he enjoyed it when people looked at him like he was particularly dense when he brought it up, he knew he wasn’t stupid. But he also knew that sometimes it was better not to know things.

Harry was completely frozen, back ramrod straight, as he ran over what he should do.

 _What to do what to do whattodowhattodo_.

His heart was beating a staccato rhythm, and he felt a little like he was underwater.

It had been two weeks since Theo’s vision. A vision that Harry was almost positive was of his father, potentially with someone trying to kill him.

Harry had received an owl from his parents the morning before, and he definitely knew his father was alive at breakfast. And for all their protectiveness, he was sure his family wouldn’t wait to let him know if something had gone wrong.

As far as Harry knew, his father was safe. For now.

Harry didn’t exactly grow up having knowledge of everything about anything in the wizarding world. His mother had been adamant on there being aspects of magic that he was blind to, as she had been as well. She was also adamant that he grow up with an understanding of the Muggle world, at least to an extent. At least so that on the infrequent occasions when they saw the Dursleys, Harry wouldn’t make his extended family “uncomfortable”. His mother said the word with quotations whenever she explained this to Harry, accompanied by an eye roll. So Harry was exposed to certain spells and creatures through Hogwarts, and he had a telly at home and had to dust the house the “Muggle way”, at least until he was old enough to perform magic without getting into trouble.

Harry did know about Seers though.

Not the ins and outs of course, there were aspects of Seers that magical experts couldn’t even explain, and as such, Harry knew very little about the magical people who were gifted with the ability to see the future. Harry knew that they could speak of prophecies, and they almost always came true. He also knew that the future could be changed.

Harry knew that his parents had heard of a prophecy about him, and Voldemort, back when he was a baby. He knew they managed to change the future, by acting before things got worse. He knew that there was the potential to make a vision change, if you _act_.

Harry threw aside his covers, and opened the curtains surrounding his bed. He cast a Tempus, and saw it was just after four in the morning.

He knew he should wait. He could wait. Wait until breakfast in a few hours, then contact his parents, and let them know what Theo had seen, like he should have all along. He could wait.

Harry was never particularly good at _waiting_. Maybe that was Sirius’s influence.

Harry crept out of bed, determined to send a letter now, at this moment. He knew he could make it to the owlery, and back to his room without anyone noticing if he could just be quiet—

“Potter,” a hiss came from his right. “what in Merlin’s pants do you think you’re doing?”

Apparently, Harry was not as adept at stealth as he had thought. Or maybe it was just due to the fact that Draco Malfoy is the lightest sleeper in all of the United Kingdom, that he could be woken up from a dead sleep from almost nothing.

“Go back to sleep,” Harry whispered, “it’s nothing. I’m just, uh, on my way to the toilet.”

Draco leveled an unimpressed gaze and Harry felt like there was a chance he may be a legilimens, and immediately began thinking very furiously that he just needed to go to the loo and there was nothing at all suspicious about that.

“That didn’t sound particularly convincing,” Draco stated.

“Potter is going to the owlery,”

Harry could scream.

Theo pulled the curtains back from his bed, and he looked incredibly awake for someone who had been snoring lightly a few minutes ago.

“The owlery?” Draco asked, sitting up on his bed. “Potter, your bird obsession can wait until the sun comes up.”

“I don’t have a bird obsession,” Harry argued, but Draco carried on.

“Anyways, why would you want to go out to the owlery at,” he looked around, seemingly for his wand, before continuing, “whatever the bloody hell hour it is. Why are you even awake? You usually sleep like the dead, Potter.”

“He would know,” Theo muttered, and Draco looked like he would hex him, had he been holding a wand.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Harry wasn’t _technically_ lying. “I wanted to clear my head.”

“And he wanted to send a letter. Which he should really have grabbed some parchment and a quill for, if he hadn’t wanted to get caught by Mrs. Norris and get a detention. Really, Potter, do you think things through? Getting caught by a cat should be far beneath a Slytherin.” Theo turned his nose up merely the thought.

“Who were you going to write to? It’s the middle of the night, surely it could _wait_ ,” Draco began, but Harry abruptly lost his temper.

“Someone is trying to kill my father, okay?” He almost shouted. “So, I think it’s more than reasonable that I don’t care that it’s the bloody middle of the night.”

Draco and Theo both had shocked eyes fixed on him. He would have been proud of his own ability to finally leave the biggest know-it-alls in all of Slytherin completely off balance if there hadn’t been more pressing matters on his mind.

“I’m going to the owlery, whether you guys tattle on me is your decision,” Harry said sternly, only stopping for a moment at his desk to angrily shove parchment and a quill into the pocket of his pajamas. It was a good idea to be prepared, though the thought of him listening to Theo at the moment rather ticked him off.

Harry realized he wasn’t alone as he left the room when a cloak was thrown over his shoulders, and his wand was shoved into his hand. He hadn’t even realized he left it behind.

“Do try to push down those Gryffindor instincts of yours, Potter,” Theo commented. “It’ll make us look bad for associating with someone if they run toward trouble without a _wand_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed, if you need more to escape with, feel free to message me on tumblr for fic recs or to scream--i will listen and i feel your pain.  
> also, you can do what i've been doing and listen to k bye for now which will never not be amazing.
> 
> k bye for now.


	12. interlude: chapter ten (rewrite)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i just write 1k of draco's POV of an existing chapter because i need to make it abundantly clear who he is in my AU? yes, yes i did.
> 
> this is selfish and self-indulgent and i will apologize for nothing. enjoy while i go continue to be a garbage fire.

Draco tended to spend quite a bit of time in the library.

He had a reputation to uphold—he was a Malfoy, after all. As such, it was a terrible pain to learn that for the first part of the term, he had come in second in the school rankings. Behind Granger. The only thing that kept him from going into a complete downward spiral was the fact that she was a Ravenclaw. If she had been a Gryffindor—he couldn’t even bear the thought.

So Draco threw himself into his studies, and tended to take refuge in a table in the middle of the library, where all students could see him in his studious glory. There was no use in studying and being pitifully intelligent if no one could _see_ it.

Except his table was taken. By a bunch of _Hufflepuffs_.

Draco was nearly ready to shout and cause a scene in the library, when he remembered that that would likely cause everyone to point and laugh at the dumb firstie who was thrown into a fit over a table. Draco checked out his books and decided to study in his room. One single day would surely not kill him.

He was still rather annoyed as he trekked down to the dungeons, carrying his books, which though he would never admit, were rather heavy. He wished he had thought to cast a lightening charm, but he knew it was too late now. What would people think if they saw him standing in the middle of a hallway casting a charm on books?

Draco walked into his room, saw that only Harry was inside, and he focused intently on the pile in his arms, rather than staring at Potter. Which he did _not_ do, piss off, Theo!

Harry glanced up at him, then walked out of the room rather quickly, and Draco was both relieved and disappointed by. He allowed himself one glance at Potter’s retreating back before cracking open the first tome.

“You’re in danger, Potter.”

Draco was broken from his studying by this, and he rushed to stand by Harry, checking him over quickly to make sure nothing was wrong, before staring wide-eyed at Theo, who was curiously pale, much more so than he was usually.

“Theo, what in Merlin are you talking about?”

“Draco, quiet a moment,” Theo said, rubbing his temples. He began pacing, and muttering under his breath, “it’s too blurry, it’s just not clear enough.”

“What’s not,” Harry stopped, then began again, “Theo, what?”

Draco could feel his eyes widening even further as he saw Theo pull a crystal ball out of his trunk. There was _no way_ —

Draco opened his mouth, but Theo cut him off with a “shh!”

He watched with frozen limbs as Theo pressed his forehead to the crystal ball, then fell to the floor, and Draco vaguely noticed Harry at his side as he rushed to Theo.

“Theo,” Harry said, shaking the boy’s shoulder.

Draco didn’t have the time to comment on how daft he thought Potter was.

“Merlin, Potter, you’re a _wizard_ ,” Draco sighed, “ _Rennervate_.”

Theo woke back up, thankfully, and Draco could finally get in a word.

“Theodore Nott, what in Merlin’s name are you talking about? What do you mean Harry’s in danger? _Theodore,_ ” Draco’s fingers twitched to shake the boy in front of him, at least a little.

“Man, a man,” Theo began, he was twitchy and his eyes were darting around. For a moment, he reminded Draco of pictures of his Aunt Bellatrix. “A green flash, a spell, I don’t _know_!

“All I know, is there was someone with an incredibly ridiculous, out of control rats’ nest of a hairstyle, and glasses, and I think someone is trying to kill them.”

Draco felt his heart stop for a moment.

He felt an arm go numb, and he almost felt his vision go black around the edges when Harry spoke, jolting him just enough to keep him from fainting like a Victorian woman in a romance novel. Not that he’d ever read a Victorian romance.

“Wait, did you _see_ all of that?” Harry asked, and Draco looked at him, and thought to himself that he was incredibly stupid to be so infatuated with someone so _dense_.

“Yes, I’m sure he saw all of that, Potter. Cause that’s a thing that _Seers_ , you know, _do_.” Draco muttered, just loud enough for Harry to catch. Harry stuck out his tongue in response.

Theo slammed his trunk shut, effectively cutting off anything else Draco could have said to Harry.

“If you two are finished flirting, we might as well turn back to the important issues. Or, do you _not_ care that someone may be trying to kill our Golden Boy?”

Draco crossed his arms, let out a _humph_ , as Theo leveled a pointed look at Draco. Insufferable know-it-all.

“Theo, I don’t know a whole lot about Seers—” Harry started, with Draco interjecting, “you don’t know a whole lot about a _whole lot_ , Potter.” Harry sighed, before continuing, “— _I don’t know a whole lot about Seers_ , but, don’t you think there’s a chance I don’t have anything to worry about? I mean, I do know that Seeing can be some of the least reliable forms of magic, and the future is constantly changing,”

Theo looked at him blankly.

“Potter,” He began, and then seemed to change course. “I think you are absolutely right, I don’t know what came over me. What a fuss I caused, over nothing. I _sincerely_ apologize.”

Theo walked straight out of the boys’ room, and Draco thought for a moment that he could slap Harry Potter and feel very little guilt.

“Well,” Harry began, but Draco cut him off by slapping him in the arm. That seemed to do the trick.

“You’re the most idiotic human I have ever come in contact with, Potter.” Draco said, and it was true, though he left out the bit that Draco himself was the second most idiotic, for being infatuated with him.

Draco left the room and thought that although he was idiotic and stupidly suffering from a crush, at least he had enough dignity to make a proper exit. He was a Malfoy, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not even joking if you comment a chapter and a character in the chapter i will do another re-write from their POV. doesn't need to be draco, could be ANYONE this was hella fun to write & if i had writers block again that could be a good way to update w/o updating, ya feel.  
> ok bye


	13. a midnight outing

Harry was glad that the object of their late-night outing was to be quiet, because he could practically feel Draco having to physically restrain himself from saying what a terrible idea this all was. Maybe Harry was a little too influenced by the Gryffindors in his life—he seemed to seriously lack the traditional self-preservation of Slytherins.

Funnily enough, Theodore Nott seemed to be a little like a Gryffindor himself.

Or, possibly, his Slytherin fraternal values outweighed his self-preservation instincts. Harry thought it might be true of Draco as well, that he valued fraternity over self-preservation. That would be one of the only explanations for his presence.

Or maybe it was just due to him hating being left out of anything, ever.

The three boys had a few close calls—run-ins with poltergeists, and even once, Mrs. Norris herself, but they managed to make to the owlery, with slightly raised heart rates, but uncaught and unscathed.

Harry scratched his note quickly, his handwriting even more sloppy than usual, and just legible enough to get his words across. He tied the note to Hedwig, who flew away, her wings flapping in the distance, before disappearing into the night, the moon huge and bright in her wake.

Once back in the dormitory, Harry felt too jittery to fall back asleep.

Theo had flopped back onto his bed and almost immediately started snoring, but Harry lied staring at the top of his four-poster until the sun began to rise.

All three of them walked down to breakfast, Harry with uncomfortably dry eyes, Theo with bedhead, and Draco smothering yawns into his palm, while trying to keep up his air of superiority. He was half-succeeding.

Harry sipped at a glass of juice while Theo tried and failed to keep from falling asleep at the table. Harry was almost positive he had a piece of toast stuck to his cheek.

Harry caught Ron’s gaze across the hall and waved a greeting. When he was met with the Gryffindor’s concerned blue eyes, Harry shrugged in response.

Hedwig swooped down onto the table in front of Harry halfway through breakfast, causing Theo to jerk awake, and he did, in fact, have toast stuck to his face. Hedwig pecked a few pieces from his cheek, before stealing some of Harry’s bacon, then flying back to the owlery.

Harry opened the letter Hedwig had arrived with, and scanned it, with Draco leaning against his arm to read it as well. Theo had gone back to sleeping on the toast.

_My dearest Harry,_

_Your father and I are looking into what your friend saw in his vision, and at the moment your father is safe and sound. I thought it would take more convincing to get him to stay home from work today, but apparently, he is not as immune to the idea of danger as I thought he was while at Hogwarts. Perhaps there’s hope for anyone to mature. Except maybe Sirius._

_We appreciate you letting us know of the situation, but we will be having a very long talk about the dangers of sneaking around Hogwarts after curfew. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the hour that Hedwig arrived with your letter._

Harry rubbed at his face, but kept reading, especially when he noticed the change in handwriting.

_Harry, Padfoot and I are incredibly proud of your abilities to sneak around Hogwarts after hours but do understand that you’re much more useful to us all if you’re not spending your time in detention!_

Harry smiled at his father’s words, while Draco snorted beside him.

_We will have that talk._ His mother wrote.

_Love always,_

_Mum & Dad_

Harry went through the day both trying to keep Theo from falling asleep in every class and trying to dodge Ron’s questioning stares. He would tell him the whole story—but he needed to make sure that when he did, there wouldn’t be anyone to overhear.

This, of course, led to Harry waiting until lunchtime, hiding in an alcove, watching students walk past as he kept his eye out for the familiar Weasley head of hair.

Ron walked past, and Harry grabbed him by the sleeve, pulling him into the alcove. He looked panicked for about three seconds, before taking in the boy before him, and his face shifted to one of confusion.

“Harry? What are we doing in here?”

“Shh!” Harry hushed him, glancing around, making sure the hallway was emptying.

“Theo, Draco and I snuck out last night,” He began, and Ron’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

“Why in Merlin would you be sneaking out? Fred and George haven’t tried nearly as much to be out after curfew after having a month’s detention cleaning Filch’s chains. What a bloody disturbing thought.” The red-haired boy shuddered, and Harry winced at the image of Filch with chains. How in the world they allowed a man like that to work at a school, he’d never understand.

“I know it wasn’t the smartest,” Harry said, and he could almost hear Draco snorting. “but it was necessary. Listen, Theo saw my dad getting attacked, I had to warn him!”

“Theo _saw_ your dad getting attacked?” Ron repeated, “What the bloody hell does that mean?”

“Theo’s a Seer.” Harry got right to the point, bypassing Ron’s next sentence, “That’s not the important thing, though. Someone’s out to get my dad! Can you believe it?”

Ron frowned. “It is a bit odd.”

Odd was an understatement, in Harry’s opinion.

“I don’t know who’s doing it, Theo couldn’t see. But all I know is that there’s something seriously wrong.”

Ron looked on ponderingly, and anything he may have had to say was cut off by a “If you two are finished snogging, lunch has begun.”

Ron turned green, and Harry heard a slap and a quiet “ow!”, before they walked out of the alcove, to see Theo rubbing his arm, and Draco slightly red cheeked.

“I hear you’re spilling our secrets, Potter. Remind me to never tell you anything remotely important.” Theo said. Harry rolled his eyes.

The four began walking, through Ron a great distance ahead. Draco kept pace with Harry behind Theo.

“Why’d you have to tell the Weasel about Theo’s vision?” He asked quietly, and Harry bristled slightly at the nickname.

“His name’s Ron,” He corrected, and Draco frowned. “and he’s my friend, that’s why. He was worried about the three of us looking like zombies at breakfast, so I told him why. Is that a crime?”

Harry was annoyed, and he barely registered Draco mouthing “zombies?” as they entered the Great Hall. Ron went to the Gryffindor table, while the three Slytherins sat together at the edge of their house table. Harry picked petulantly at his food, miffed over what had occurred. Draco moved his food around, head in his palm, staring at the tabletop. It seemed that Theo was the only one who was going to eat a good lunch today. Of course, the tosser.

Harry was sitting by the fire, struggling over another potion’s essay, while Draco and Theo were playing wizarding chess—Harry was terrible at the game, no matter how hard his father and the rest of the Marauders had tried to teach him otherwise—when Snape came sweeping into the common room.

This was something that didn’t happen often; although he was their Head of House, Snape rarely graced the common room with his presence, which was something Harry was glad of. So, when Snape went directly for the trio, Harry gulped.

“Potter,” He could convey so much disdain with just a mutter, “you’re wanted in the Headmaster’s office.”

“What for?” Draco asked, taking his eyes off of the board, and completely missing Theo swapping around pieces.

“None of your business, Malfoy. Now, come along, Potter.”

Draco frowned, but Theo looked nonplussed as Harry felt as though he was being led to his death. He thought through everything that had happened in the past few days and knew that the only thing he was guilty of was sneaking around after hours. But no one saw them! Harry was almost positive that sneaking to the owlery wasn’t enough to merit a trip to the Headmaster’s office, or else he’s sure his father and his friends would have never graduated Hogwarts.

All of Harry’s worried thoughts wasted enough time for him to be stood in front of a huge statue of a gargoyle. Snape muttered “fizzing whizbees,” and the gargoyle began turning, revealing a staircase. Harry followed Snape up, until they came to the door of what must be Dumbledore’s office. Harry walked in, and was taken aback by the room, but before he could get lost in looking at every detail, a voice crying, “Harry!” pulled him to the moment.

He saw a flash of auburn hair before he was enveloped in warmth, the familiar sweet and flowery smell of his mother encircling him.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, as she pulled away and held him at arm’s length. He glanced around the room.

He didn’t see his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i'm the worst


	14. everything's fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the calm before the storm...
> 
> (this is the fourth update in one day i can't believe myself)

“Mum,” Harry repeated, “where’s Dad?’

She smiled sadly at him, trying to push his hair down.

“He’s fine, love,” She said, “though he’s got a few cuts and bruises. He’s over at St. Mungo’s for a check-up.”

A breath Harry didn’t realize he was holding was pushed out of him.

 _He’s alive_ , Harry thought, _that’s all that matters._

“He got attacked on the way to help Remus, with, you know.” She glanced over his shoulder at Snape, who Harry had forgotten was in the room. “Someone must’ve followed him from the house. He got ambushed around the corner from the apparation point. He didn’t see who was there, but they managed a few slicing charms before he got a shield up and shot out a couple blasting charms. But he’s alright, he’ll be good as new in no time.”

Harry smiled at his mother, who gave him a small grin in return.

“You can come with me to see him,” She said, squeezing his check, “he’s been asking for you. I already got it cleared with Albus.”

Dumbledore stood up from his desk then, his half-moon glasses sliding down his large nose.

“You’re fine to leave the castle, Harry,” He said. “I’m sure you’ll lift your father’s spirits during this trying time. Severus, you’re free to return to your rooms, thank you for fetching Harry.”

Harry didn’t waste time, and as he and his mum walked toward the green flames of Dumbledore’s fireplace, he didn’t notice the lingering looks Snape cast at his mother. His mother never looked back.

“I don’t understand why they haven’t let me out of here yet, I’m _fine_.” James complained, while Lily placed a couple pats on his head.

“They’re just making sure you’ve not been hit with anything dangerous. You said yourself, the spells were cast nonverbally.”

Harry laughed at his father’s face, which had turned akin to a baby sucking on a lemon.

“Lily, my darling, you’re ever the voice of reason, but I don’t think you understand; _I’m going bloody insane_.”

“I think you’re spending too much time with Sirius.”

Harry laughed, filled with joy to see his parents, together. Even with the circumstances, he was happy to just be in their presence. It felt like _home_. He watched his parents, twin smiles on their faces as they laughed and joked with one another. Harry felt whole, and it was incredible that he hadn’t felt the absence of his parents until they were reunited again.

“Well, Harry, it looks like your friend is one hell of a Seer,” James said, “I’m lucky I knew ahead of time, it made me sharper.”

“Well I guess it was a good idea for us to send that owl, then,” Harry said, and his father smiled, while his mother looked at him sternly.

“It could have waited until breakfast!” She exclaimed.

“Could it have?” James asked with a smirk.

A healer swept into the room, cutting off the tirade threatening to spill from Lily Potter’s mouth.

“Well, Auror Potter, it seems you’re perfectly fine. You should count yourself very lucky,” the healer said. “do come back if you experience any symptoms.”

“Alright then,” James said, getting off the bed, and clasping his hands together. “how ‘bout ice cream?”

\------

James put the last spoonful of pistachio into his mouth, savoring the flavor.

He needed this, especially after what had happened.

Especially after what was up next.

James would still have a long night ahead of him, because although he had been through some shit, the night was still young, and Moony needed him.

Sure, Padfoot and Wormtail had handled Moony alone before, and all went well.

But James was still determined to go, to help his friends through this, just had he had since they found out about Remus’s “furry little secret.”

As James watched his son and his wife smiling, their faces illuminated by the neon sign in the window, he felt completely at ease. No matter what kind of day he had, he knew he had this, waiting for him.

And James would do anything to be sure he would come back to them.

\------

Harry returned to Hogwarts at half-past eight, being escorted by his parents, and entered his dormitory feeling warm and light, and full of sweet ice cream. Harry felt more at ease than he had in the past few weeks, and he was more than happy that everything was as it should be.

“ _Where in Merlin have you been?_ ”

Harry startled in the doorway. He felt as though he had been startling much more frequently recently.

“Draco, where is your tact?”

Draco sat on his bed, legs crossed, huge tome resting on his knees. He looked ruffled, at least for a Malfoy.

Theo was lounging on his own bed, and he had a pile of folded paper animals that he was seemingly charming to peck Draco in the head.

“I was with my parents,” Harry answered, moving toward his trunk to grab his pajamas. “My dad was in St. Mungo’s. You were right, Theo.”

“I’m right about a lot of things, Potter,” Theo said, before sending a particularly aggressive peacock Draco’s way. “you’ll have to be more specific.”

“He was attacked by someone. They got away before anyone saw them.”

Draco’s head snapped to Theo. “I thought you saw _everything_ , Theodore. Where were you on that one?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not how Seeing works, Draco. Don’t be dense, it doesn’t suit you.”

“My dad said you helped,” Harry said, “he said he was more prepared because of my letter. I’m sure it would have been much worse if you hadn’t told me about your vision.”

Theo looked uncharacteristically soft. “Of course, Potter. I’m not entirely heartless.”

Before anyone could say anything more, Theo cleared his throat, and waved his wand to close his curtains.

“Now everyone shut up so I can get some sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would never kill james and i will never kill james. hope you enjoyed his POV and him being soppy and just generally loving his family.
> 
> also theo is me. when i feel any emotion i immediately recoil away from the sentimentality. that exchange was me projecting.
> 
> on another note, i adore comments so if you're comfortable doing so and you like the fic enough to comment please do!! your comments keep me motivated ok


	15. harry potter: king of overreacting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****TRIGGER WARNING: DISCUSSIONS OF DEATH****  
> it's not graphic. but make sure to read with caution, kiddos. if you need more information about anything feel free to message me on tumblr.
> 
> i was thinking that this may be getting rushed like plot-wise but then i remembered the JKR basically shoves most of her main plot points into like the last three chapters so i guess i'm not rushing. (who else thought the first book was more than 17 chapters??? maybe it was just me. i had to google it. it's only 17 chapters. what the hell.)
> 
> i digress.  
> enjoy the fic.

Harry wished someone would stun him right about now.

Not that he necessarily _wanted_ to learn what it felt like; he was sure it was probably painful. But at the moment, Harry was sure it couldn’t be more painful than this.

Harry was sitting out on the grounds of Hogwarts, books open on the grass while Hermione Granger attempted to quiz them on Potions.

“No more,” Ron whined, as Hermione asked them the proper use of dragon blood. “I can’t stand it, Hermione.”

Harry patted Ron’s shoulder in sympathy, while he used his other hand to rub at his face.

“Hermione, exams aren’t for another week, I’m sure we don’t need to be cramming _now.”_

“I respectfully disagree, Potter,”

Harry turned, getting blinded for a moment by the sun, although he knew who had spoken. Theo was making it a rather annoying habit, butting into his conversations. It mostly irritated Harry that he never heard the other Slytherin approaching. If he hadn’t thrown countless items at a very corporeal Theo, he would be convinced the boy was a ghost.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” Ron asked, looking displeased. “Here to talk in riddles?”

“No, I would much rather leave that to Dumbledore,” Theo said, “I’m actually here to gather Potter. I rather think there’s something in the Slytherin common room that would interest him.”

Harry looked up again, forgetting about the sun, before cringing as his eyes burned.

“I would invite the two of you,” Theo continued, “but I only _just_ tolerate you. Come now, Potter, we mustn’t waste time.”

Harry grabbed his books, not really because of Theo’s order, but more because he was intrigued by the boy’s words. He waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione, the former of which responded with a grimace in the direction of the other Slytherin.

The two boys walked in silence to the common room, and when they entered, Harry was surprised to see nothing amiss. Theo made straight for their rooms, and Harry followed. He startled slightly when Theo shut the door behind him. Draco was twirling his wand on his bed, creating little stars in the air, but paused when he saw Harry.

“What’s going on?” Harry questioned.

“You’re in danger, Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He’d heard this before.

“Knock it off, Theo. I’m fine! My dad was the real target in your vision, nothing else is going to happen.”

“Harry,” Draco said softly.

“Draco,” Harry said petulantly. “you know there’s nothing going on.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Draco insisted. “Theo had another vision.”

“What?”

Theo walked over to sit on his bed, letting out a deep sigh. Harry’s hands felt numb.

“It’s you this time.” Draco said, and Harry had to sit down. “No doubt about it.”

“What do you mean, it’s me?” Harry said after a long pause. “What’s going to happen? Theo, _what did you see_?”

Draco looked to Theo, who was staring at his hands in his lap. Harry waited, though he sort of wanted to walk over and shake the other boy an demand that he spill every piece of information he knew.

“I Saw you,” Theo began. “I don’t know where you were, really. I think it may have been the Forest, I can’t be sure,”

“The Forest?” Harry questioned, “What in Merlin would I be doing in the Forbidden Forest?”

Theo leveled a look that made Harry shut his mouth.

“You were in the Forest, and someone was holding a wand to your neck. Then there was a flash of red—I think it was a stunner—and then whoever it was, they were casting something but it was nonverbal, I don’t know what it could’ve been, but there was so much—”

Theo gulped, his face was pale, and Harry abruptly decided he didn’t want to hear any more.

He got up, meaning to go anywhere that wasn’t here, but he was stopped by a hand on his sleeve, which he shook off immediately.

“Harry,” Draco said, “you know you needed to hear this.”

“Did I?” Harry spat. “Do you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t want to hear that I’m going to be brutally murdered in a haunted forest by someone I don’t know?”

Draco was looking at him pleadingly.

“You know now, you can _protect_ yourself. Just don’t go around being a Gryffindor, please.”

“Why?” Harry was just angry now. “Why shouldn’t I go around being a Gryffindor. Maybe I should just go stand in the Forest and scream, so whoever’s after me will just come and get it over with. Why shouldn’t I do that, Draco? I’m going to _die_ anyways,”

“Harry,” Draco said once more, but Harry was done.

“Just leave me alone, Malfoy.” Harry said, and then he was gone.

Harry seriously considered spending the night in the library or something, just so he didn’t have to face his roommates. He settled for sitting in the Common room long past when the last student crept up to bed, before he returned to his room. The curtains were drawn around his roommate’s beds, and he quickly changed and climbed into his own, pulling the curtains around him.

He stared at the ceiling, until his eyes drooped.

He slept fitfully; as soon as he drifted asleep, he would imagine being in the Forest, leaves smacking him in the face. He wouldn’t see anything—or anything, just the never-ending darkness of the woods. He would be walking, trying to push aside the greenery, wind whirling so loud he could barely think. The branches would grab him, and hold him down, no matter how he struggled. A cloak would emerge as he was being shoved into the dirt, and a wand would point at his face, there was a flash of red and then—

He woke up.

Harry got up just as the sun was rising, groggily pulling on his clothes, before trudging down to breakfast.

He sat at the table alone, and was there, munching on tea and toast, before the first students trickled in. He ate as much as he could stomach, leaving before his friends even made it into the Great Hall.

He waited in the Potion’s classroom, wishing he could skip class because he didn’t feel fit to interact with anyone. At this rate, he would likely blow up a cauldron.

He was debating leaving, going back to his rooms and facing Snape’s wrath at missing double-potions later, when students began trickling into the classroom, bringing with them excited conversations, shouting and playful pushing. Harry sighed, letting the noise wash over him, though it did little to calm his anger. He could feel the tension in his chest, coiling and ready to burst out.

Harry vaguely registered a body sitting next to him, and he tensed slightly, but he looked to see that it was Blaise Zabini, and not either of his roommates.

Harry didn’t know whether or not to be relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told y'all there was a storm coming


	16. detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ᶦ'ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ

Harry was stirring his potion in silence, when Blaise finally broke the silence.

“You know, this morning when Draco begged me to sit with you in potions, I didn’t understand why he acted like he was asking to throw me to the wolves. I can positively feel the aggression radiating from you, Potter.”

“Piss off, Blaise,” Harry spat.

“Potter!”

Harry was close to swearing.

“Detention, for rude language toward a fellow Slytherin,” Snape sneered as he walked by. “along with poor potion making.”

Harry thought for a moment of screaming. Yes, he would let out a good scream, and he could walk straight out of the room. It would be perfect. A very tiny voice in his mind that sounded a good deal like Lily Potter told him that wouldn’t be his smartest idea.

So, Harry took a deep breath, and continued stirring.

“Potter, your detention will be served tonight. Meet me outside of the Slytherin dormitory at precisely seven o’clock. Do _not_ keep me waiting.”

Harry was feeling just petty enough that he almost let loose an eye roll, but he just barely held back.

“Yes, Professor.”

Harry left the potions classroom, determined to sleep away his free period. He thought of skipping lunch, feeling too annoyed to consume anything more. He just wanted to be away from people. But just as he was leaving the classroom, he heard a voice shout his name.

“Harry!”

He turned to see Hermione, with Ron a few paces behind. “We were just about to head to the library to study for exams. You should come along!”

Harry wanted nothing more than to anything that wasn’t that.

“Hermione,” He began, but the bushy haired girl stopped him.

“Harry, I read in a book that spacing out studying across the course of a few days is much better than cramming. Don’t you want to do well on your exams?”

Harry deflated slightly.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Fine, okay, lead the way.”

Hermione grinned, and started toward the library, with Harry and Ron following at a much more muted pace.

“Mate, you alright?” Ron asked as they ascended a staircase. “You weren’t at breakfast. Plus, you told Blaise to piss off loud enough that Snape heard you. Is something wrong?”

Harry thought for a moment of just telling Ron to piss off and mind his own business, but he had already tarnished two friendships in the past day, and no matter how angry he was, he thought it might be wise not to make it three.

“It’s complicated,” Harry said finally.

“Why do I feel like Quirrell never spoke of any of this?” Ron scratched his head as he read in the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. “Harry, did you know how to cure a werewolf bite?”

Harry shrugged, while Hermione flipped in her notes, frowning.

“I know it, I know it, _I know it_ …”

Harry felt as though he had learned very little from his DADA class, just as an overall during the year. Something about the way that timid, shaky Professor Quirrell tried to lecture them on the ways to protect themselves against dark magic just didn’t seem to translate to Harry’s brain.

“How do I not know it?”

Harry watched Hermione slump into her chair, looking positively shaken.

“Hermione?” Harry asked softly, and she stared at him with big eyes.

“I don’t know how to cure a werewolf bite, Harry,” She said, almost as if she was saying she had stolen money from his vault.

“Hermione,” Harry repeated. “None of us know how to cure a werewolf bite.”

Ron snorted, which caused Harry to chuckle. Hermione let out a little hysterical laugh, and the three of them burst out laughing, so much so that Madame Pince shooed them from the library.

Hermione cast a tempus in the hallway, before saying, “We might as well head to dinner. What time is your detention with Snape tonight, Harry?”

“Seven,” Harry sighed, “I can’t believe I’m spending my Friday night with _Snape_.”

“Sorry, mate,” Ron said.

Harry decided to sit at the Gryffindor table, wanting to avoid his troubles as much as possible. The time spent in the library had relieved him of his deep-set anger, it was almost like it had evaporated. But he was left with an echo of that past anger, which was now colored with embarrassment at his own actions, with his own words. He didn’t necessarily feel guilt—he was waiting for that to come in, but it wasn’t forming. He felt sort of justified in his anger, and although he may have overreacted, he didn’t necessarily regret what he’d said. Who wants to hear that they’ll die?

Harry managed to shove down some potatoes and stew, while Ron spoke of nothing of importance, occasionally with mouthfuls of food.

Harry made it back to the dormitories with just enough time to stow his book bag in his trunk, before heading out to meet Snape for his detention.

Snape looked even more pale and withdrawn in the dim light, and Harry hoped their silence would continue far past Snape leading him up and out of the dungeons.

Harry walked a few paces behind, wondering what Snape could possibly have planned for him for the night. Probably, knowing Snape, something either boring beyond belief, or consisting of back-breaking labor. Harry barely held in a sigh.

“Potter,” Snape broke him from his pondering. “your detention will be with Professor Quirrell and myself.”

Harry just then noticed the other teacher, standing there in the hallway outside of the Great Hall, twitchy as always. It was a little disarming that he managed to blend into the scenery.

“Oh,” Was all Harry said.

“We’re going to be gathering potions ingredients. Some are used in Defense Against the Dark Arts, so Quirinus will be accompanying us.”

“I-I-It’s a t-t-treat, you’ll s-s-see!” Quirrell stuttered, and Harry held back a cringe. Oh, joy. He forced out a small smile toward his a Defense Professor.

The two professors began walking towards the main doors, Harry paused.

“Uh, Professor,” they both turned, but Harry didn’t bother to address anyone in particular. “where are we going?”

“To gather the ingredients,” Snape repeated, “do keep up, Mr. Potter.”

Harry rushed slightly to catch up as they reached the door, though his heart was starting to quicken, completely unrelated to his pace. “Yes, but _where_ will we be going to do so? Professor,” he added quickly.

“T-T-To the F-F-For—”

“The Forest, Potter, we’re going to the Forest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters left! feel free to tell me how much you hate me for this in the comments. i'm waiting.


	17. the forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was watching criminal minds when i was writing this for ~inspiration~ to make it more suspenseful because i am terrible at writing things that are remotely tense. i don't think i totally succeeded. but hopefully y'all enjoy this second-to-last chapter!!! (also i laughed bc the first ep of criminal minds is set in seattle. ayy)

The forest. _The forest._

It was ringing in his ears, and Harry felt a little like he was filled with the concrete as he followed behind the two professors. Objectively, Harry knew there was probably no way that he was walking to his death, flanked by two professors, on his way to detention. But still, Harry definitely felt like he was walking to his death, flanked by two professors, on his way to detention, _where he would die_.

This was so much worse than just spending his Friday night in detention with Snape.

Walking down the stone steps, with every moment bringing him further from safety, Harry couldn’t get his brain to form anything coherent. Nothing made sense in his mind. He tripped over stones on his way across the courtyard.

Passing Hagrid’s house, he was almost tempted to run toward the door, but he quickly decided against it. What would a man, no matter how nice, with no wand, do to help him? Especially considering whoever was meant to attack him was going to do so exclusively with magic, as far as Harry knew.

As the three were walking towards the edge of the Forest, Harry was almost lightheaded with his panic. For a fleeting moment, he thought that he may be in the clear. Maybe Theo saw wrong, he had been mistaken before. He pushed down the echo of Draco saying there was no doubt it was Harry in the vision. Maybe, just maybe, something had changed. The future was never concrete; maybe Harry getting detention had somehow, someway, changed the future.

The wind picked up, whipping through Harry’s unkempt hair, and he felt a calmness spread over his body.

Then the spells started being cast.

“ _Expulso_!”

Harry only just caught sight of Professor Snape being thrown towards the grass before the man next to him cast again.

“ _Petrificus Totalus_!”

Harry watched in complete shock, as timid, stuttering, Professor Quirrell smiled down at the prone body of Professor Snape. He leaned down to grab Snape’s wand, and as he turned in Harry’s direction, he abruptly realized he should probably _do something_.

He grabbed his wand out of his cloak and cast the first spell that came to mind.

“ _Fumos_!”

Smoke poured out of his wand, and he didn’t waste time.

He ran.

Harry briefly heard Quirrell swear, but he didn’t pause. He ran straight into the woods, for all of its darkness and mysteries, he knew he fared better in the maze of trees and bushes, rather than out in the open.

He didn’t look back, worried that doing so would make things worse. He had no idea where Quirrell was, if he was hot on his trail, or paces behind. Harry tried to zig-zag, attempting to put as much distance between Quirrell and himself.

He just hoped it would be enough

Draco sighed for the fourteenth time that hour.

He wanted nothing more than to be completely engrossed in assignments, or textbooks, or even just a good novel. It was Friday, and he had the entire weekend to do whatever he desired.

Except he couldn’t _focus_.

He was too caught up in everything that had transpired, and he wasn’t able to do much more than wallow. He hadn’t even been in the mood to order around Crabbe and Goyle.

Everything just felt wrong.

Draco, having given up on studying, was walking toward the dungeons, when he heard the rushed footsteps of someone coming up behind him.

“Draco!”

He flinched as someone grabbed his arm, and he was almost blindsided by who was gripping his sleeve.

Hermione Granger, with all of her bushy hair crowded his vision.  
“Granger,” he addressed her with caution. “why are you touching me?”

“Draco,” she repeated, but she didn’t let him go. “I think Harry is in trouble.”

That immediately got his attention.

“What happened?”

“I was walking down to the library, I wanted to study more for exams, since, you know they’re coming up so fast,”

Draco was highly aware, but that really wasn’t the _most pressing matter at the moment_.

“Granger,” Draco interrupted her babbling, gripping her by the shoulders and using excellent restraint not to shake her. “ _Harry_. What happened to Harry?”

“Harry, right,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I was walking past a window, and I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. It was blue, I think. Close to the edge of the Forest. Harry didn’t know what he would be doing for his detention, but I just, I felt like it must be him. Have you seen him?”

Of course, Draco hadn’t.

“Come, Granger,” Draco said. “you’re in for a real treat.”

Draco pulled the Ravenclaw by the sleeve to the Slytherin common room, not even bothering to whisper the password—there were more important things.

Draco was about to check his rooms, leaving Granger in the common room, but on his way up the stairs, he bumped into a pale, sickly looking Theo.

That wasn’t good.

“Theo,” Draco whispered.

His roommate looked at him.

“It’s Harry.”

That also wasn’t good.

“He’s in the forest.”

That was worse.

“Someone is trying to attack him. Draco, my vision is still the same. It’s _always_ the same.”

And that was the worst.

“We have to help him.” Draco said, resolve settling in his body. “Theo, we have to.”

“Well then what are you bloody waiting for?” Theo said, pushing him aside. “We have a Golden Boy to save.”

Harry was tempted to cast a _lumos_ , but decided against it. His eyes were adjusting. He could see just, _just_ enough to be able to continue on. He was cold, the wind was whipping faster, sending chills up his spine. He cast a warming charm, as quietly as he could.

The running had stopped. He couldn’t see Quirrell anywhere, and Harry was focusing more on hiding.

Maybe, just maybe, if he could keep himself hidden for long enough, Quirrell might leave him be. Maybe the man was just in a tizzy and had somehow settled on murdering a student being a good course of action. Perhaps his homicidal urge would pass when the sun came up.

A bush ten feet from Harry burst into flames, and that thought was abruptly quelled.

“If you two don’t stop talking, I will stun myself, and then you’ll have nothing to go on,”

Theo was far past niceties, though he was self-aware enough to admit he didn’t tend to participate in niceties even in his most cheerful states.

He was far from cheerful.

Theodore Nott was smart. No, he didn’t shove his face into books, nor did he have fainting spells over competing for grades the way the two loons in green and blue behind him did. No, Theo didn’t care for such things as class ranks.

But he did pride himself on his ability to make good, well-informed, and consistently self-serving decisions. He was self-aware enough to admit that, as well.

Becoming friends with Harry bloody Potter was the stupidest decision Theo had ever made.

“Theo, we can’t go rushing into this, we should at least have a plan.” Draco said, and Theo had to admit he was right. Though he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“Do tell, then,” Theo said, motioning to the two other students, “what have Hogwarts’s resident brains come up with?”

“We should tell Dumbledore,” Hermione said, and her tone signaled to Theo that she had been insisting this for a while. “The Headmaster has to know what’s happening.”

“Oh, he’ll surely let three first-years go out into the woods after that, Granger, be more _realistic_.” Draco sighed, and Theo was almost inclined to chuckle. “We should just go towards the woods, and see if we can figure out where Harry is.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Granger asked, hands on her hips, “Yelling his name into the darkness? Who’s being unrealistic now, _Malfoy_.”

“I’m sure the bursts of light from all of the spells will be a _dead giveaway, Granger._ ”

Granger let out a _humph_ , and Theo felt his vision go black around the edges, and the rushing in his ears began. Oh, joy.

 _Fear was clinging to the air, another shot of fire lit up the darkness. One breath, two, then another flame. Harry was running again, watching as fire shot over his left shoulder, close enough to feel the heat. Something on the ground, a root, a branch,_ something _, caught his foot, and he tumbled to the ground. One breath, two, the figure approached, and Harry held out his wand in response to the person—man, who was it, who_ was _it?—came closer, and a word, whispered, left his lips,_

_“Sectumsempra,”_

Theo was pulled back to reality, and, through his panicked breaths, he forced himself to speak.

“It’s Quirrell.”

“Quirrell?” Granger asked incredulously. “What do you mean?”

“Quirrell is trying to kill Harry?” Draco said uncertainly.

Theo was already covered in a sheen of sweat, visions always left him feeling weak and lethargic. He wanted to shake his head, though he knew that would only serve to make him dizzy. He’d tried too many times before.

“No, Quirrell secretly dresses up like McGonagall in his free time. _Yes_ , Quirrell is trying to kill Harry.” Theo said, breathing out deeply, trying to compose himself. They were running out of time. He said as much to the two, and he was surprised when Granger’s gaze steeled.

“What do we need to do?”

The trio rushed toward the forest, and Hermione could feel her heart beating quickly in her chest.

She was worried—rightly so, Harry was running through the forest being chased by someone who wanted him dead—and she could practically feel the tension radiating from the two other students as they all ran towards the tree-line.

“Severus?”

Hermione paused, and saw Draco kneeling next to a prone, dark figure.

“Professor Snape?”

She and Theodore stood by Draco’s side, and Hermione was relieved to see the Professor’s eyes darting wildly.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Draco whispered, and Snape gasped as he regained his ability to move.

“What,” he spat, “are you three doing out here?”

Hermione held back a sigh, and she heard Theodore murmur, “should have left him frozen in the grass,”

“Professor,” Hermione said, and Draco looked up at her, eyes wide. “we saw spells, and it was my idea, to come and see what had happened.”

Snape had gotten to his feet, and turned to Hermione, and she was close to shriveling back when faced with his black gaze. She rolled her shoulders back, taking in a breath, and tried to make eye contact with the boys behind the teacher’s back.

Snape looked down at her, before looking toward the grass. When his gaze was away from her face, she mouthed, “go!” at the boys, who turned to run toward the trees.

Snape realized too late that the boys had run off, and he glared at Hermione. “You are all in a world of trouble,”

For once, the thought of punishment did not scare her.

“Potter!” Quirrell’s crazed voice called, “Come out, you’ve got to stop running, and face your destiny!”

Harry was, unsurprisingly, not going to do that.

“ _Reducto!”_

A tree a few feet away blew to pieces, and Harry tried to move again.

He caught sight of Quirrell’s turban, and hissed a “ _Locomotor Mortis_ ,” in his direction, trying to incapacitate him _somehow_.

“Oh, what a clever boy you are, Mr. Potter!” Quirrell was laughing manically, and Harry was disturbed just as he was surprised. The man hadn’t stuttered since they entered the forest.

“There’s no need to hide anymore, Potter, there’s nowhere you can go that I won’t be able to find you! Just give up, it’ll make this all much easier.”

Harry pressed his back against a tree and tried to breathe deeply.

He leaned out from his hiding place, and tried to cast again. “ _Locomotor Mortis!_ ”

Just as Harry had sent his spell flying, he saw Quirrell firing off another in his direction. Harry had no time to react, as he saw the spell hurling toward him, and he felt his arm raise reflexively, and he tensed, waiting for the impact of the spell—

“ _Protego!_ ”

The spell hit an invisible wall and dissipated in front of him, and Harry almost let out a gasp.

Harry could see Quirrell looking around wildly, and Harry moved to send out another spell, but another voice beat him to it.

“ _Petrificus Totalus_!”

Quirrell went rigid, dropping to the forest floor. Harry was almost struck dumb. It couldn’t have been that easy, could it?

Harry watched a brown head creep toward the prone body of the Professor, and he barely registered a white-blond hair coming into view before the whole world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol


	18. afterward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter, cheers to the finale of this book!

The first thing Harry registered was an overpowering smell. It stung his nose, and he sniffed a few times, trying to place it. It almost burnt his throat.

The next thing he noticed was quiet, murmuring voices. He thought he must be dreaming—he could have sworn he heard his father. But that wasn’t right—why was his father at Hogwarts?

His eyes jolted open when everything came back to him.

He coughed, and his lungs burned a little. Although the world was blurry, he could make out bright light—windows—and he realized he was in bed. But not his bed, this one was sort of rigid, with bright, white sheets.

The hospital wing. He was in the hospital wing.

He looked around, and saw his glasses folded neatly on a table next to him. He reached out and placed them on his nose. Everything was in focus, and he glanced around. A cloak was lying on a chair next to his bed. It was red—Auror red. His father was definitely here.

This was proven when the curtain around his bed parted, and his father walked through. His face lit up when he saw Harry, and he took a seat on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“Hey, kid,” he said, “welcome back.”

There were about a million questions he wanted to ask. What happened to Quirrell? Why was he after Harry? What happened to _Snape_. Harry remembered the Professor lying prone on the grass.

“You’re alright, apparently you fainted from shock, exhaustion, stress, no one knows for sure. And Quirrell is in Auror custody.” His father said, unprompted.

“Snape?” Harry asked, and he had to clear his throat a few times. “What happened to him?”

“Unharmed,” James said, then struggled to hold back a smirk. “at least he was, until your mother arrived.”

Harry sat up straight at his words.

“What happened?”

James’s lips twitched.

“You know, I think I’ll give Sirius the pleasure of telling you. His dramatic flair is much more suited to tell the tale. He may even do some reenactments, if you ask.”

“Sirius is here?” Harry asked, to a nod.

“Remus, too. They were having dinner with us when we were notified you were missing.”

 _Missing_. His parents had been told that he was missing.

“Your mother was fuming. Apparently, your little friend Hermione had been taken to the Headmaster’s office by Snape, and she wouldn’t stop yelling that you were in the forest. Dumbledore sent us a Patronus, and by the time we got here, teachers were all going to the woods, but apparently everyone was late to the party. Your friends had Quirrell out on the grass, all tied up like a present.”

Harry snorted.

“I will say, it’s not common for Aurors to come around just to collect a suspect. Especially one that’s been captured by children.”

Harry was fully grinning by then, trying to picture Aurors showing up, just to find two eleven-year-old Slytherins having done all of their work for them.

“Draco and Theo?” Harry asked, “Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” James said, “they may be able to keep out of serious trouble, if they can manage to keep their mouths shut.”

 _Fat chance_ , thought Harry.

“Well, well, well, you sure know how to end the year with a bang, don’t you?”

Harry grinned up at his godfather, who was coming through the privacy curtain, flanked by Remus.

“The lengths you will go to get out of exams. I shudder to think of what you’ll come up with next year.”

Harry gave his godfather a wry smile.

“Sirius, why don’t you tell Harry about Snape?” James prompted, and Sirius Black lit up.

“Oh, Harry, if only you hadn’t fallen unconscious, you would have witnessed the single best moment of, possibly, your entire young life. Don’t worry, though, as I, Sirius Black, am here to fill you in.”

Remus rolled his eyes at his husband’s words and made a show of sitting down and getting comfortable.

“Not only did your mother give Snivellus—I mean, Snape, an excellent talking-to, she also, wait for it, _hexed_ him. In front of Dumbledore. Who _laughed_.”

Harry was already struggling to hold back laughs.

He listened intently, as his godfather explained what had happened. How they had all come through the Floo, and were met with Snape, and Hermione, sat in Dumbledore’s office. How Snape had said that he had come from the forest’s edge, and that there were students in there—Harry, Theo, and Draco—and Professor Quirrell, who was trying to attack Harry. How Lily had heard this, and immediately flew into a rage.

“You left them?” She had screeched, going straight for Snape, wand at his throat. “You knew they were in there, with someone after them, and you just _left them_?”

“I had no wand,” Snape had said, through gritted teeth, “I went for _help_.”

“They’re _children_ ,” Lily had said, “without a wand, you are still more capable against another wizard than three eleven-year-olds.”

“So, you’d rather I brought another student into the woods to wander wildly, looking for _your_ son,” Snape had spat, and before he could continue, Lily whipped her wand, causing Snape to double over, clutching his face, as bats flew from his nose.

“She bat-bogey hexed him!” Sirius screeched, laughter overcoming him. “It was beautiful!”

“Sirius Black, are you telling that story _again_?”

Lily peeked through the curtain, before coming to sit on Harry’s other side. “He told three Aurors already.”

She reached out to pat down Harry’s hair. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Alright,” Harry answered. He didn’t quite know how he felt, at least not yet. Sure, he knew what had happened was terrifying, and he would likely not get through this without any scars, even though he had suffered no physical damage. It was all he could muster; at the moment, he was alright.

“Do you think they’re still going to make me take my exams?”

“I think I definitely got an O on my Transfiguration exam,” Draco bragged, “my snuff box had gold lining.”

“Mine still had whiskers,” Ron whimpered.

Harry walked out of his final exam of the year feeling relieved. He was glad they were _over_.

Not surprisingly, there was no examination given for Defense Against the Dark Arts—even if a teacher had been available to give the examination, Harry was sure no one would have passed with more than a Troll. Even for someone planning a murder, while trying to lay low, Quirrell was a terrible Professor.

“Gold lining, huh, Draco?” Theo asked, smirking, “Mine was solid silver. With emerald green detail. Like a _proper_ Slytherin.”

Draco looked like he was about to burst, so Harry threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him along as the boys walked toward the Great Hall. “I’m sure your snuffbox was properly posh, Draco.”

“Gold is more valuable than _silver_ ,” the boy muttered, and Harry let out a laugh.

They saw Hermione in the Great Hall, and they waved a greeting. She paused in her reading long enough to return in.

“Exams are over,” Ron said, “why in the world is she reading?”

“People of higher intellectual capabilities can read for reasons that don’t involve studying for _exams_ , Weasley,” Draco sneered, and Ron stuck out a tongue, before heading to the Gryffindor table.

“Be nice,” Harry reminded as they sat. Draco grimaced.

“Yes, that’s right, Draco,” Theo said, buttering a scone, “be a good little kneazle.”

Draco threw a muffin at Theo’s forehead.

“Theo, I swear, if you’ve stolen my _favorite_ tie, I’ll hex you so quickly—”

“You threatening me, Draco, is like being threatened by a small child. Though you’re much more annoying.”

Harry finished packing his trunk and shut it with a final _click_.

It was bittersweet.

Harry was excited to go home, to have the summer ahead of him. To spend time with his family and fall back into the normal lull of everyday life, to get back to the way things used to be. To get back to the comfort of _home_.

But he knew that there would still be things he missed.

Like the Shepard’s pie served in the Great Hall, the smell of the library, with all of it’s ancient books. The smell of ink as the students scribbled their notes.

And things like this. The sound of Draco and Theo arguing over something dumb and inconsequential. He would miss watching Hermione trying to instill some of those Ravenclaw study habits in Ron, to no avail. Seeing Neville rushing through the halls looking for Trevor. Waiting for the twins to blow up another cake.

Although he was excited to get back home, to his family, there was no doubt in his mind that he would feel the same ache once he got home. The urge to see his friends, to hear their voices, to witness their antics. And as he left the train, after the long ride to King’s Cross, as he walked towards his family’s smiling faces, and waved goodbye to his friends, he found himself counting down the days.

Counting the days until he would be with them all again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on to the next, i hope you all enjoyed! keep an eye out for the next book in the series...

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna ask any questions about the fic or you just wanna talk about harry potter feel free to shoot me an ask or a message on tumblr! https://osnapitsdanni.tumblr.com/


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